


you and me (that's my whole world)

by angelica_barnes



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Adoption, Angst, Asexual Jughead Jones, Bisexual Archie Andrews, But mostly fluff, Christmas, Coming Out, Communication, Demiromantic Jughead Jones, Domestic Fluff, Engagement, Families of Choice, Flashbacks, Fluff, Friendship, HERE HAVE SOME HAPPY MOSTLY NOT ANGST SHIT, Happy Ending, Healthy Relationships, Homelessness, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Marriage Proposal, Married Life, Multi, Non-Sexual Intimacy, One Big Happy Family, Poetry, Queer Jughead Jones, Secret Relationship, Secrets, Trans Jughead Jones, also i have not watched this show but at this point it feels like i have, and acephobia, and gave them a NORMAL high school existence, and possible transphobia, basically i took everything fucked-up from canon, because fuck canon that’s why, enjoy :), for like a hot two seconds i fixed it don't worry, happy everything, it doesn't really come up but just so everybody knows, literally this whole thing is happy, mentions of grundy (bitch), not for that long though, takes place over a period of many years, they are TEENAGERS THIS SHOULD NOT BE THEIR DAILY LIVES
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-04
Updated: 2019-12-04
Packaged: 2021-02-26 01:08:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 22,258
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21674995
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angelica_barnes/pseuds/angelica_barnes
Summary: “I love you,” Archie whispers, and Jughead closes his eyes as he hears the bell ring, knowing he’ll be late.“I love you back,” he murmurs, and stays like that, breathing in Archie, until the background noise fades away and he realizes they’re alone.or,five places that mean something to Jughead Jones and Archie Andrews.
Relationships: Archie Andrews & Betty Cooper, Archie Andrews & Betty Cooper & Jughead Jones & Veronica Lodge, Archie Andrews/Jughead Jones, Betty Cooper/Veronica Lodge, Jellybean Jones & Jughead Jones, Jughead Jones & Veronica Lodge, blink and you miss it FP Jones/Fred Andrews
Comments: 9
Kudos: 72





	1. the high school

**Author's Note:**

> title and lyrics from "Miss Americana & The Heartbreak Prince" by Taylor Swift
> 
> this took a month because school (ugh) but it's finally finished!!!
> 
> i hope y'all enjoy!

_ carpe diem! _

_ seize the day! _

_ \- Robin Williams (Dead Poets Society) _

**you know I adore you**

**I’m crazier for you than I was at sixteen**

**lost in a film scene**

You’d think after three years of loving each other they’d be used to it.

This is what flashes through Jughead’s mind as he catches Archie’s eye from across the hall. He’s walking with his football friends, with Reggie and Moose, and Jughead’s walking alone. It’s nothing atypical, and yet Jughead has the sudden urge to reach out and take Archie’s hand, to pull his boyfriend against him and kiss him hard against the lockers.

Probably not a good idea.

You see, they’re a secret. For no good reason, the last time Jughead checked, but whatever. He doesn’t really care.

Except that Archie’s smiling at him now, fucking  _ winking _ at him, and Jughead really, really,  _ really _ wants to kiss him.

(Shit.)

**waving homecoming queens**

**marching band playing**

**I’m lost in the lights**

**american glory faded before me**

_ “Hey, princess?” _

_ Jughead snorts, not looking up from his English essay. _

_ “Not your princess, Arch.” _

_ There’s a laugh next to him, and Jughead looks up when a hand brushes through his hair, eyes bright with mirth. Archie grins back at him, leaning forward to kiss his nose. _

_ “Of course you are. Now, what’s the answer to number seven of Mr. Lee’s homework?” _

_ Jughead rolls his eyes, looking down again with a blush. _

_ “Fuck you.” _

_ Archie suddenly sags against him, a hand wrapped around Jughead’s. _

_ “Juggie…” He whines. Jughead sighs. _

_ “Kiss me.” _

What the fuck,  _ he thinks.  _ I meant, I mean -

_ “I mean, wait, fuck, how the fuck should I know, Archie, I don’t take fucking algebra -” _

_ Archie cuts him off with his mouth, pulling Jughead into him by the front of his jacket. Jughead melts against him, face flaming and hands shaking as he grasps at Archie’s t-shirt. _

_ “Fuck you,” he repeats, and Archie grins, tongue slipping between Jughead’s lips. _

**now I’m feeling hopeless, ripped up my prom dress**

**running through rose thorns, I saw the scoreboard**

**and ran for my life**

**_you_ **

_ running through hallways of clouds and silhouettes _

_ I’m watching your smile _

_ growing like wildflowers in my weedy garden _

_ I’ll water you with my laugh _

_ please don’t kill me for thinking us over _

_ for ripping up the pages of the story you wrote for us _

_ and the fairytale I wrote for us too _

_ let’s try writing something new together _

_ as we go along _

_ maybe a story, or a fairytale, or a poem like this one _

_ the double doors are wide open _

_ sunshine spilling in over us _

_ sparrows are nesting in your hair and there’s a snake curled around my shoulders _

_ I drew snails on your sneakers in math class _

_ I fucking love you _

_ don’t read my journal _

_ my story _

_ yours _

_ read ours while making peanut butter and jelly sandwiches _

_ get brown and purple on the pages _

_ I want you to mess me up _

_ I can hear the stupid choir singing _

_ and the drama club dancing in the hallway _

_ so borrow my headphones _

_ sing along and pull me close _

_ shut your eyes so there’s no one watching us _

_ I’ll press my hands over your heart and my lips over your lips _

_ until I’m breathing you in like dandelion dust _

_ I need you _

_ did you ever think we’d be kissing in room A207 _

_ or was it C215 _

_ who cares, just keep kissing me _

_ best friends, we call it _

_ and I’ll let them call it whatever they want _

_ because you’re mine and that’s all that matters _

_ your heart in my hand and _

_ my smile in your head _

_ think of me during debates in history class _

_ blush pretty and sputter _

_ don’t try and explain _

_ just kiss me, kiss me, kiss me _

_ write a story with me _

_ give blank pages infinite meaning _

_ love me til I’m dying _

_ think of sunny classrooms and take my hand under the desk _

_ pass me a note _

_ I love you too. _

**_JJ, 20XX._ **

**no cameras catch my pageant smile**

**I counted days, I counted miles**

**to see you there, to see you there**

**it’s been a long time coming, but**

“Why are we here again?”

Jughead shrugs, shoving Archie into the dark corner on the wall with the door, so no one can see them.

“So I can kiss you.”

Archie’s lips curl into a smile. He raises an eyebrow in amusement and pulls Jughead closer, fingers dancing on his hips.

“Is that so?”

Jughead rolls his eyes, dropping to his knees and pulling Archie with him, crawling into his boyfriend’s lap. He presses their mouths together, biting down on Archie’s lip and eliciting a moan from the redhead.

He smirks.

“Shut the fuck up, Archie.”

**it’s you and me, that’s my whole world**

**they whisper in the hallway**

**he’s a bad, bad boy, okay**

_ I love you. _

Jughead rolls his eyes, praying he isn’t blushing. He glances up at the teacher, sees her back is to him, and scribbles down a response.

_ We’re in chemistry class, Archie. _

As soon as Archie opens the note, a grin spreads across his face, and Jughead feels himself pale. Shit. Now he’s gonna -

A folded origami crane lands on his desk.

_ You and me have enough of that all on our own. _

Jughead huffs in exasperation, but can’t keep himself from smiling.

_ You’re a fucking moron,  _ he writes, but reaches across the aisle and squeezes Archie’s fingers anyway.

“Love you too, dumbass.”

Archie beams, kissing Jughead’s knuckles.

Jughead closes his eyes.

Fuck.

**the whole school is rolling fake dice**

**you play stupid games, you win stupid prizes**

**it’s you and me, there’s nothing like this**

Jughead’s used to being picked on. It doesn’t really matter to him all that much now - he’s dating  _ Archie fucking Andrews _ , he couldn’t give a shit if anyone else cares about him.

On the other hand, Reggie should really stop being such a dick.

“Yo, freak!” The football player shouts from across the room. Jughead rolls his eyes. “What’s it like, having everybody hate you?”

Jughead crosses his arms, leveling a cool look Reggie’s way.

“I wouldn’t know, Reggie. But aren’t you an expert on the matter?”

Silence descends over the student lounge, Veronica on the edge of her seat and Betty’s hands grasping at her. Archie’s eyes are wide, shocked in the corner. Reggie’s face burns red.

He vaults over the couch and heads towards Jughead, hands in his pockets.

“What’re you tryin’ to imply…  _ faggot _ ?”

Jughead feels his fingers curl into fists.

“Fuck you.”

Somebody gasps. Reggie’s face twists into an ugly sneer as he pulls his fist back, readying for a punch. Jughead braces himself, pressing his back against the wall.

“Hey!”

Reggie freezes, turning to look at Archie, whose eyes are rage-filled, posture stiff and defensive as he storms over to them, placing himself in front of Jughead.

“Leave him alone, Reggie.”

Reggie raises an eyebrow, smirking. He steps back, crossing his arms over his chest, and Archie’s eyes flicker down and away before meeting Reggie’s mocking gaze.

“What do you care, Andrews?”

Jughead stares, stepping forward to Archie’s side tentatively. Archie glances over at him, and Jughead can see the gears turning in his head.

“Nothing,” he says, not looking away from Jughead. “Just leave him alone.”

Reggie grins maniacally, lunging forward.

Archie snaps.

He shoves his friend back into the couch, Veronica fully out of her seat now and Betty gasping, tucking herself into the raven-haired girl’s side. Jughead reaches for Archie, then stops cold upon hearing his boyfriend’s furious words hissed through bared teeth, fist an inch away from Reggie’s nose and a hand clutched in the collar of his shirt.

“That’s my boyfriend, you dick.”

Reggie blinks.

One second. Two. Three. Then -

Archie pulls back from Reggie and drags Jughead in by the waist, searching his eyes for any protest. Sees none.

Smiles.

Leans down.

Three… two… one…

Their mouths meet and Jughead’s eyes flutter shut.

Chaos.

**miss americana and the heartbreak prince**

**we’re so sad, we paint the town blue**

**voted most likely to run away with you**

**_definition_ **

_ think of me in synonyms _

_ your pretty beautiful handsome goodlookin’ baby _

_ your witty intelligent smart genius darling _

_ your sweet kind thoughtful generous love _

_ think of me like a dictionary _

_ your love my only definition _

_ a million synonyms written in my margins _

_ to describe just exactly how _

_ you make me feel _

_ even though _

_ I don’t think anyone could ever put a word _

_ to what is love _

_ you try _

_ for me _

_ and I will let you read me _

_ pull back my pages and touch my suffixes with your fingers _

_ my prefixes with your lips _

_ never write new words into me _

_ don’t change what I say, what I mean _

_ but read me until you’re drunk off my creativity _

_ let me be your antonym, attracting your eyes _

_ let me be yours. _

**_JJ, 20XX._ **

**my team is losing, battered and bruising**

**I see the high fives between the bad guys**

**leave with my head hung**

**you are the only one who seems to care**

Football practice ends late today. Archie’s all sweaty and that sickening mix of hot and cold all over, staring up at his boyfriend on the bleachers with a smile. The sun’s setting by now, pink and orange coloring the grass gold, and Archie knows Jughead’s probably writing something about it in metaphors. Maybe about love. Maybe about him. Maybe, hopefully.

Well, whatever he’s writing, he’s pretty engrossed in it. He doesn’t even notice Archie until the redhead’s arms are wrapped around his waist from behind, his lips pressed to the back of the brunette’s head.

Jughead startles, nearly dropping his notebook and pen and only retaining them with a white-knuckled grip. Archie smiles against his boyfriend’s head, closing his eyes and nosing Jughead’s beanie. He adjusts his arms around Jughead’s waist, settles, and squeezes.

Jughead relaxes back against him, eyes slipping shut as he presses his forehead into the side of Archie’s neck, ears cold against Archie’s collar bone. Archie kisses his shoulder, humming against soft cotton and opening his eyes.

Jughead’s notebook is open to the most recent page.

_ remember that I love you _

_ and that love is not a passing thought _

_ that I have chosen to love you on all the days before this _

_ and that I will continue to do so. _

Archie smiles.

“I love you back,” he whispers, and Jughead laughs.

**american stories burning before me**

**I’m feeling helpless, the damsels are depressed**

**boys will be boys then, where are the wise men**

**darling, I’m scared**

**_nighttime_ **

_ I fall asleep to your smile _

_ your voice in my head crooning a lullaby _

_ and the janitor’s footsteps down the hall. _

_ he sounds like sadness, _

_ but you sound like hope. _

_ hope for me. _

**_JJ, 20XX._ **

Jughead smiles, pulling the photo of Archie to his chest. It’s them, technically, both of them, kissing each other’s mouths and grinning like sunshine, and Jughead thinks it’s his favorite photo in all the world.

He lays his head down on his backpack and thinks of love and the cold, and how things will be alright. He repeats the words of his poem until they become scrambled, until he can’t remember them, until they disappear from his head in a flash and he’s left with silence, unsure if the dark is because he’s got his eyes closed or because of something else.

**no cameras catch my muffled cries**

**I counted days, I counted miles**

**to see you there, to see you there**

**and now the storm is coming, but**

It’s too early to be at school. The sun’s not even up yet, so no one else is here, he bets, but then again he’s been wrong before. So he’s quiet as he undresses, slipping into the shower and tracing his finger along the wall tiles in the letters of his loved ones’ names.

It’s quiet in the morning. That’s Jughead’s favorite thing about the morning - well, that and the golden sun spilling in through the windows and making the air glow with dust. Sometimes it makes him sneeze, but in the end it’s worth it - Jughead’s pretty sure it’s the most beautiful thing he’ll ever see.

Well, besides Archie.

He smiles to himself at the thought, running his wet hands through his dark stringy hair as he looks at himself in the mirror. Shit, he’s skinny.

“Yeah, you are.”

The voice is soft, gentle and fond, and Jughead makes to turn around when strong arms snake around his waist and a bare chest presses to his naked back, a chin hooked over his shoulder.

“What’re you doing here, Juggie?”

Jughead lifts his arm, bending it backwards so he can run his right hand through Archie’s hair, cradling his head in his shaking fingers. He spreads the fingers on his left hand, slipping them through the spaces in between Archie’s left fingers, holding his waist.

“Waiting for you,” he murmurs, hoping that’ll shut him up, but he knows it won’t.

A kiss is pressed to the place where his neck meets his shoulder.

“Jug.”

Jughead sighs, closes his eyes and leaning back into Archie’s embrace.

“Don’t have anywhere else to be.”

Archie’s quiet, thinking that over.

Then, “What about home, sleeping?”

Jughead breathes in deep, feeling his chest shudder and Archie’s body tremble with him.

“None.”

He waits for the gasp, for the tears, but they don’t come. Archie’s silent as ever, lips now tracing Jughead’s jaw.

“Come home with me,” he whispers, and Jughead doesn’t move, content to stay like this forever.

“Yeah, Archie. Sure.”

**it’s you and me, that’s my whole world**

**they whisper in the hallway**

**he’s a bad, bad boy, okay**

Jughead holds Archie’s hand as they walk down the winding hallways towards the janitor’s closet he currently lives in. He doesn’t hold Archie’s hand often, not because he doesn’t want to, but because it feels somehow too intimate for the street, too personal to let strangers see.

They’re quiet as they pack Jughead’s single bag. It’s not tense, or comfortable, just a sort of muffled question hanging in the air, the answer in Archie’s smile when he finds the photo Jughead sleeps with every night.

“I remember this,” he murmurs, and Jughead cracks a small grin, pressing his head into Archie’s shoulder.

“I hoped you would,” he whispers, but it’s not what he means.

_ I adore you. _

**the whole school is rolling fake dice**

**you play stupid games, you win stupid prizes**

**it’s you and me, there’s nothing like this**

**_weak_ **

_ monday: _

_ greet me at my locker, _

_ kiss me slow when no one’s watching _

_ see me smile bright and hear me joke about Peanuts _

_ know I mean I love you _

_ tuesday: _

_ take my hand across the aisle between our desks _

_ play with my pinkie when I’m about to fall asleep _

_ tickle my palm while I laugh and tell you to stop _

_ know I mean I want you _

_ wednesday: _

_ doodle on my notes when we’re studying _

_ sword fight with me, playtime with our pencils _

_ watch my eyes light up and my mouth open wide to shout curses _

_ know I mean I need you _

_ thursday: _

_ knock our ankles together under the table _

_ press your knuckles into my jeans and your fingertips against my flannel _

_ unsew my stitched up lips slowly as they split to say something snarky _

_ know I mean I adore you _

_ friday: _

_ pull me closer under fluorescent lights in the hallway _

_ kiss each and every one of my freckles as my eyelids flutter shut _

_ save my lips for last, listen to me murmur poetry under my breath _

_ know I mean I worship you _

_ saturday: _

_ wake me up when the sun’s still rising _

_ hold my head to your chest and my hand to your stomach _

_ smile as I babble on about impossibilities and philosophy _

_ know I mean I cherish you _

_ sunday: _

_ wrap me in your jacket, then your arms _

_ rub my hands in yours until we’re both warm _

_ kiss my knuckles and let me mumble the lyrics to your favorite song off-key _

_ know I mean I treasure you _

_ mondaytuesdaywednesdaythursdayfridaysaturdaysunday: _

_ ask me anything _

_ watch my lips move as I answer and then kiss them _

_ know whatever I said, _

_ I mean _

_ I am weak for you, I am falling for you, _

_ I am all yours. _

**_JJ, 20XX._ **

**miss americana and the heartbreak prince**

**we’re so sad, we paint the town blue**

**voted most likely to run away with you**

Jughead’s at his locker, getting his biology book out of his locker, when an arm slides around his waist and pulls him to a soft chest. He looks up, smiling, and hums into Archie’s mouth as it kisses his own.

“Hey,” he whispers, voice hoarse when they pull away, and the redhead smiles, eyes shining.

“Hey.”

Jughead laughs, light and happy, knowing that they’ve got a couple more classes until they can be with each other again but somehow not caring. As if because Archie’s here now, it doesn’t matter if he won’t be in five minutes.

“Was that it?” He asks, voice lilted in laughter, and Archie smiles, pressing his lips to Jughead’s once again.

“No,” his boyfriend smiles. “One more thing.”

Jughead chuckles, pulling Archie in by the collar again, just hugging him close, drinking in his warmth.

“Oh yeah?” He says. “What then?”

Archie’s grin imprints itself into Jughead’s shoulder, their bodies meshed together like books on a shelf.

“I love you,” Archie whispers, and Jughead closes his eyes as he hears the bell ring, knowing he’ll be late.

“I love you back,” he murmurs, and stays like that, breathing in Archie, until the background noise fades away and he realizes they’re alone.

**and I don’t want you to go, I don’t really wanna fight**

**cause nobody’s gonna win, I think you should come home**

Jughead’s still not used to the staring. It’s been a few months, so he probably should be, but they’ve been hiding this for years. Longer, if you count the years before they told each other. But no one expected Archie Andrews to ever like boys, let alone like Jughead Jones - to be perfectly honest, Jughead’s pretty sure everyone knew he’d fall for Archie, that he  _ has _ . But he doubts it ever crossed anyone’s mind that Archie might love him  _ back _ .

And yet here they are. Sitting in the crowded cafeteria, eyes on their backs and fronts alike as they whisper quietly, taking each other’s hands until the table. Betty and Veronica are lost in their own world, Veronica’s lips pressed to Betty’s ear, their palms clasped together, fingers intertwined.

Jughead wonders what his ten-year-old self would’ve thought, seeing this. Probably that this couldn’t be love, because love meant boys with girls, because love was shouting and sleeping and empty glass bottles.

Jughead wants to go back in time and tell that little kid to never settle for something like that, because that isn’t love. That doesn’t bloom from love, doesn’t inspire love, isn’t romantic. Love isn’t violence and sex and separate beds.

Archie is quiet, now, picking at his food and playing with Jughead’s pointer finger with his own. Jughead watches him, a slight smile on his lips, and presses a kiss to Archie’s shoulder, resting his forehead against it and closing his eyes.

Love is this. Love has always been this.

**and I don’t want you to go, I don’t really wanna fight**

**cause nobody’s gonna win, I just think you should know**

**and I’ll never let you go cause I know this is a fight**

**that someday we’re gonna win**

**_smiles_ **

_ I am broken bottles smashed against walls, _

_ against bone and skin, _

_ but you are duct tape and super glue. _

_ holding me together when I slam against the door, _

_ when I shatter the windows, _

_ when I am empty, _

_ you are there. _

_ I am socks with holes in their toes, _

_ in their heels and arches, _

_ but you are knitting needles and yarn. _

_ stitching me up when I tear the seam, _

_ when I unravel the thread, _

_ when I am worn, _

_ you are there. _

_ I am leaking faucets in sinks, _

_ in tubs and showers, _

_ but you are wrenches and screwdrivers. _

_ fixing me up when I flood the bathroom, _

_ when I spill the water, _

_ when I am exposed, _

_ you are there. _

_ when you are broken bottles, _

_ or socks with holes in their toes, _

_ or leaking faucets, _

_ when you are empty _

_ or worn _

_ or exposed _

_ when you are all three or something entirely new, _

_ when you are none or something familiarly old, _

_ when you are nothing or anything at all, _

_ I am there. _

_ I am here, _

_ with you. _

_ for always. _

**_JJ, 20XX._ **


	2. the drive-in

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> title and lyrics from "Paper Rings" by Taylor Swift

_ first, you feel the urge to cut, _

_ but instead of picking up the blade _

_ you pick up a pen and draw a butterfly _

_ on your arm _

_ or your ankle _

_ or anywhere you want. _

_ it doesn’t really matter as long as it’s on your body. _

_ then you name it for someone special. _

_ that’s what brings the butterfly to life. _

_ so now you’ve got this living, breathing ink _

_ on your forearm or by your belly button _

_ or the dimple by your knee, _

_ and the butterfly is flapping its wonderful wings _

_ while you take algebra tests and clean your room _

_ and eat cold chicken nuggets in the cafeteria. _

_ and because you love it so much _

_ you stay away from the blade _

_ because that’s the only way _

_ to save your swallowtail’s life. _

_ you can’t wash it off either. _

_ the butterfly has to fade on its own. _

_ because if you wash it off in the sink _

_ or cut before the ink fades naturally, _

_ then your butterfly dies. _

_ those are the rules. _

_ \- Madeline Kuderick (Kiss of Broken Glass) _

**the moon is high**

**like your friends were the night that we first met**

**went home and tried to stalk you on the internet**

**now I’ve read all of the books beside your bed**

**_take my hand_ **

_ I couldn’t breathe when I saw you _

_ my chest too tight under my binder _

_ love felt like Hot Dog on my middle back then _

_ but you were smiling so I could ignore it _

_ you were worth it _

_ you are worth it _

_ you laughed when you saw me _

_ shaky and unsure _

_ and my eyes shone in the moonlight, _

_ wanting to reassure you _

_ I was here to stay _

_ I am here to stay _

_ my first friendship bracelet tied around your wrist _

_ your first rosary hanging around my neck _

_ all we needed was each other _

_ even back then _

_ I looked down at my not-flat-enough chest _

_ and at your pink-lined wrists _

_ wanting to touch you _

_ “Archie,” I whispered, your name gospel on my lips, _

_ “take my hand,” _

_ and you did. _

_ you do. _

_ we were just two boys back then _

_ sweaty and scared _

_ we are still two boys now _

_ belonging to each other like planets and moons _

_ I am your star and you are my sun _

_ be my universe _

_ be my forever _

_ be my love _

_ you were my first. _

_ you are my last. _

**_JJ, 20XX._ **

**the wine is cold**

**like the shoulder that I gave you in the street**

**cat and mouse for a month or two or three**

**now I wake up in the night and watch you breathe**

Their first date had been here.

Archie remembers this, clear as day. He’s not sure he’d ever be able to forget.

Jughead looks just as beautiful now as he did back then, eyes lit up with joy as he watches the movie on the wall.

Archie watches him.

Jughead’s nails are bitten down to nubs, painted black (probably by Veronica). His knuckles are bruised, his fingers stiff. Jughead’s hands are broken, calloused, but Archie still wants to hold them.

He reaches down and threads their fingers together, scooting closer to his boyfriend across the creaking floorboards. Jughead doesn’t take his eyes off the movie projected onto the too-small wall, lifting Archie’s hand to his lips and kissing the back of it.

Archie’s starstruck, sometimes. Most of the time, by this boy.

By this boy being  _ his _ .

**kiss me once cause you know I had a long night**

**kiss me twice cause it’s gonna be alright**

**three times cause I’ve waited my whole life**

The sun’s nearly set by the time they’re walking home. Practice ran late and Jughead always waits for him, so when they’re finally passing the drive-in, it’s dark enough for a movie.

So that’s what Archie asks him for.

Jughead smiles, that fond one of his that’s exasperated and quirked awkwardly at the corners.

“Sure,” he says, like he doesn’t know why Archie’s asking, but Archie knows he does.

He doesn’t ask if Archie wants to pick. Archie never wants to pick.

Five minutes later, Alfred Hitchcock’s  _ Psycho  _ is casting black and white light over the empty field. Archie smiles, having expected nothing less. He takes Jughead’s cold hand in his.

“C’mon,” he whispers when his boyfriend looks at him. “Let’s go.”

Jughead follows him without question, out to the lot. As the lady in the shower starts screaming, Archie turns to face his boyfriend, pulling him in by the waist so Jughead has no choice but to rest his hands on Archie’s shoulders.

Jughead raises an eyebrow. Archie smiles.

He starts to spin them in a circle, feet shuffling, and Jughead’s face splits into a grin as he shakes his head, laughing.

“This is ridiculous,” he says, and Archie kisses the top of his beanie. Jughead goes quiet.

“Yeah,” Archie whispers. “But then again so are we.”

Jughead looks up at him, right into his eyes, and smiles so wide Archie can’t help but kiss him until their lips are red and bruised.

**I like shiny things**

**but I’d marry you with paper rings**

**that’s right**

Sometimes, with all the chaos high school brings, Archie forgets just how much he knows about Jughead. Forgets just how much Jughead knows about him.

Because as they’re lying in the grass, listening to the chirps of crickets around them and staring up at glittering stars, Jughead whispers, “Your wrists are perfect.”

They’re not. There are two moles diagonally across from each other just beneath his pulse point, and the underside of his forearm is paler than the freckled top. But Archie knows what he means.

“Yeah,” he whispers back. “For a month or so now.”

Jughead squeezes his hand, and Archie closes his eyes, reveling in the feeling of Jughead’s fingertips kissing his palm.

“I’m proud of you,” Jughead mumbles. Archie lets his lips quirk up into a small smile.

“Thanks. It was hard.”

Jughead hums.

“I’m sure it is.”

Archie looks over at him out of the corner of his eye. Jughead’s own eyes are closed, his cheeks a faint pink in the cold. His hair ruffles in the breeze, even with his beanie there to keep the strands in place.

“How about you?” Archie asks, softly. “You haven’t looked in the mirror in three days.”

Jughead shrugs, but Archie sees how his muscles stiffen.

“I’m fine.”

Archie nods, slowly, deciding not to fight it. Jughead always talks to him when he’s ready.

“Okay. Good.”

They’re silent for a minute, then two, and Jughead breathes out harshly through his nose.

“It’s that time of the month,” he mumbles. “And I feel dirty and itchy all over. I think I’m dying.”

Anyone who didn’t know Jughead would tell him to stop being overdramatic, but Archie knows him. Knows him like the back of his own hands, like the marks on his own skin.

He opens his mouth to say something, but Jughead is faster, sitting up and untangling their fingers, pulling his knees to his chest and wrapping his arms around them.

“It’s not enough,” he whispers as Archie sits up beside him. “I wear boy clothes, and that stupid binder, and I cut my hair short and I don’t wear make-up and it’s - it’s not enough. It’s never enough. I’ll never be a boy, not for real. And it -”

He sighs, the sound sad and frustrated.

“It - it just sucks, y’know?”

He lifts one of his hands, looking at it. His nose wrinkles.

“Maybe I should stop painting my nails. That might help.”

Archie takes Jughead’s uplifted hand, bringing it to his lips.

“Don’t. You love painting your nails.”

Jughead sighs again, dropping his head forward onto his knees.

“I know,” he says, voice muffled. “I just - I wish I was born right. So I wouldn’t have to deal with this.”

Archie nods, holding Jughead’s hand just a little tighter.

“I wish that too, baby.”

Jughead looks up at that, a small smirk on his face. His eyes are tired, but he seems lighter. He squeezes Archie’s hand.

“Don’t call me that,” he says, but it’s soft, fond, and Archie smiles.

“Okay,” he murmurs. “Princess.”

**darling, you’re the one I want, and**

**I hate accidents except when we went from friends to this**

**that’s right**

**_cracks_ **

_ some nights we’re butterflies _

_ borrowing each other’s wings _

_ mine black and yours blue _

_ caught in the space between the stars and the trees _

_ and we think we can do anything _

_ but we don’t want to _

_ those nights are the nights I love you most _

_ or the most that way, anyway _

_ because you can fix everything just by smiling, _

_ just by calling me nicknames I hate, _

_ making me laugh _

_ I wish your name flowed through my veins _

_ always there to breathe in and out like oxygen _

_ so even when my lungs are drowning in tears _

_ I can feel your love _

_ and know happiness is waiting for me just down the hall with a letterman jacket and a _

_ “hey, princess, how was class?” _

_ you know _

_ you’re the only one I’ll ever let call me princess _

_ because I know that prince doesn’t roll off the tongue quite as well _

_ and I know I’m your boyfriend _

_ not your girlfriend _

_ and you’d never want anything else. _

_ sometimes I wish things were different _

_ some days I think I can do for you what you do for me _

_ but I know that’s bullshit _

_ I’m all sharp edges and cold stares _

_ where you’re warmth and curves _

_ but I can write my name on your wrists over and over again on the days _

_ you want to break your own skin and not just someone else’s _

_ I can write all the names of the people that love you _

_ or maybe just some _

_ because that number is endless _

_ but I hope I’m always on the list _

_ I’m not sure I could ever not be on the list _

_ I love you with all that I am _

_ and you love me with all that you are _

_ and I remind myself of this when I want to let myself fall apart _

_ right in front of everybody _

_ because only you should know all of me _

_ only you can love me for everything I am and everything I’ve done _

_ I can do nothing but promise I’ll love you the same _

_ on rainy days the sun may be shining outside _

_ and no one else may notice _

_ just how grey the clouds are _

_ but know that I will _

_ and know that I’ll stay with you _

_ pull you to the eye _

_ I will be your calm within the storm _

_ I will be your shelter. _

**_JJ, 20XX._ **

**darling, you’re the one I want, and**

**paper rings and picture frames and dirty dreams**

**you’re the one I want**

“How’s Jellybean?”

Archie makes a point of asking Jughead every day. Because though his answer rarely ever changes and he says it dismissively, he never looks Archie in the eye when he does. So Archie’s pretty sure he’s far from okay with his sister living on the other side of the state, miles and miles away from him.

Jughead, true to form, shrugs, not pausing his scribbling to speak.

“Fine, probably. Haven’t talked to her in months.”

Archie nods solemnly, knowing that’s all he’ll get out of Jughead today. He picks up a crayon from the floor (there was a box five-ninths full in the corner by the film. Most of them are broken and some colors are repeated, but there’s something poetic about it, Jughead says, and Archie’s inclined to believe him).

He tears a piece of paper from Jughead’s biology binder, knowing he won’t care. He draws a heart, not caring that the crayon he’s using is green, and colors it in with blue. The comforting scratching of Jughead’s pencil has stopped, but Archie pretends he doesn’t notice, proceeding to draw off-purple butterflies inside the green and blue heart, ones made up of simple oval bodies and circle wings.

Jughead’s breath hitches in his throat. Archie hears.

“Wanna talk about it?” He offers, glancing at Jughead’s hands out of the corner of his eye. They’re shaking.

“She loves butterflies,” Jughead whispers, ignoring him. Or maybe answering him, Archie’s not sure. “Calls ‘em pesky little glowworms, but she loves them. We’d always walk through the garden together at the zoo, y’know? It was the first and last thing we did when we went, I swear, every time.”

Archie hums, to let Jughead know he’s listening. He knows his boyfriend would continue regardless, but he’d like him to know. He thinks maybe it’d help.

“The day after she and Mom left, I went to the zoo. Headed straight to the garden. Didn’t even realize where my feet were taking me, I just ended up there, y’know? And she wasn’t there. There were little kids everywhere with their normal parents and they were all laughing and smiling and marvelling at the butterflies and I was all alone.”

Jughead swallows, and Archie chances a look at him up through his eyelashes. He’s pale, ghostly, eyes haunted like he’s seen one too.

“I kept looking for her too. It’s like I couldn’t remember she wasn’t there. Like, I’d tell myself the truth over and over again, going over the facts in my head until they blurred together, but I’d still check every corner and every bush, always expecting to see her jumping out from behind a tree or some shit. Usually I’d scream and punch her arm, or tickle her, but all I wanted was to hug her. If she’d just shown up, I’d have hugged her until she had to leave. Until she made me let go.”

Archie pushes himself off his stomach, sitting up on his knees next to Jughead. He doesn’t touch him, knowing better than to try right now, but he doesn’t protest when Jughead tangles their fingers together, wrenching the crayon sharply from Archie’s hand. He leans down and starts coloring in the butterflies’ wings.

“I wish I’d held on,” he whispers. “I wish I had something to hold on  _ to _ .”

Archie kisses his head, lying on his side next to Jughead’s bent-over form. He doesn’t dare unthread their fingers, smiling when Jughead finally looks over at him, as if he’s just realized Archie’s here.

Jughead smiles softly back, a little happily, and drops the crayon, sliding down onto his side too. Facing Archie, he grins, squeezing his boyfriend’s hand.

“You’re wonderful, you know that?” He murmurs, and Archie shrugs, kissing Jughead’s knuckles.

“So are you.”

Jughead’s smile fades to a ghost of itself, his eyes saddening and fingers loosening in Archie’s.

“No,” he whispers. “I’m not, but thanks for saying it.”

Archie finally untangles their fingers, pulling Jughead to his chest with an arm around his waist. Jughead’s fingers grasp at his sleeve and the front of his shirt dampens with Jughead’s hidden tears, but Archie just closes his eyes and breathes in Jughead’s warmth.

“Yes,” he mumbles. “You are.”

**in the winter, in the icy outdoor pool**

**when you jumped in first, I went in too**

**I’m with you even if it makes me blue**

**which takes me back**

It’s dark out by the time they leave the sanctuary of the projection booth. Jughead won’t let go of his hand, not offering an explanation for his sudden clinginess, but Archie’s not complaining. Any touch Jughead will allow him is one he’ll take.

“Where are we going?” He whispers. Jughead looks over his shoulder, smiling with twinkling eyes. Archie’s breath escapes him.

“To fix the sign,” he answers, as if it’s obvious.

Jughead helps him up the ladder, until they’re standing right next to each other one the rickety thing. Archie’s shaking, nervous, but then Jughead takes his hand again and he steadies himself.

_ I’m in love with the best person in the world. _

That’s what Jughead spells with the big black letters, watching Archie’s eyes widen and water. He smiles, lifting Archie’s wrist to his lips to kiss the inside of it.

“I’m proud of you,” he murmurs. “I know I already said that, but I really am. So proud of you, Archie.”

Archie ducks his head, trying to hide his blush and the tears collecting in his throat and eyes, but he knows Jughead sees anyway, because suddenly the brunette boy is rearranging the letters.

_ I’ll be your princess if you’ll be my Superman. _

Archie smiles, sniffing. Jughead smiles back, letting go to cup Archie’s face in one of his hands while holding onto the sign with the other.

“Love you, Superman,” he whispers, and Archie closes his eyes as their mouths meet, hoping Jughead gets what he means by the silence.

_ I love you back. _

_ I love you always. _

_ I love you forever, princess. _

**to the color that we painted your brother’s wall**

**honey, without all the exes, fights, and flaws**

**we wouldn’t be standing here so tall, so**

**_chess game_ **

_ it was a sunday, I think _

_ we should’ve been sleeping in but you wanted me somewhere _

_ dragged me out of the house without coffee _

_ brought a backpack you hadn’t used in years and our jackets _

_ you were wearing my beanie, I remember _

_ though I don’t remember why _

_ you took me to the movies _

_ to the drive-in without a car _

_ it was empty, cold, _

_ with the sun coloring the sky vibrant magenta gold _

_ and you pulled from your backpack sandwiches _

_ and juiceboxes and Oreos _

_ all for us _

_ all for me _

_ you had a chess board too _

_ I don’t know why because _

_ I was terrible at chess and you never even learned how to play _

_ then again, maybe that was the point _

_ no matter the competition, no matter who against, _

_ you always wanted me to win _

_ even if it was against you _

_ I remember you surrendered everything to me _

_ that you still do when you’re unsure if I still love you _

_ and I have to take you down to that field _

_ with a chess board to play a game or two _

_ checkmate, I love you _

_ I don’t care who wins, Archie, _

_ the only thing I couldn’t stand losing is you. _

_ so make your move _

_ I want to be with you _

_ I want to stay with you _

_ be with me, checkmate _

_ stay with me, checkmate _

_ I will love you until I have no more love to give _

_ and even then _

_ we’ll share what’s left of yours _

_ go ahead, knock down my queen _

_ take my bishop _

_ beat my knight _

_ I don’t care, Archie _

_ I really don’t _

_ just let me be your king _

_ just be my king _

_ if I’m still on the same board as you in the end _

_ standing face to face _

_ then _

_ checkmate, love. _

**_JJ, 20XX._ **

**kiss you once cause I know you had a long night**

**kiss you twice cause it’s gonna be alright**

**three times cause you waited your whole life**

Most nights, the drive-in is empty. Archie’s sure it’ll go out of business soon, but he doesn’t want to be the one to tell Jughead, though he probably should be. It’ll be him Jughead cries to in the end anyway.

The lot is bare now, waiting for the cars that keep on driving by. Everyone has better things to do on a Friday night than watch some movie on a dirty sheet.

Except Archie and Jughead.

They’re sitting on the ground now, right in the middle of the large lot, criss-cross. There’s a movie on, but it’s on mute. Archie doesn’t know why Jughead insisted on playing it in the first place - there’s nobody here but them, and they’re not watching it.

Instead, Archie’s got his guitar in his lap, plucking at the strings as he mumbles the lyrics to  _ Paper Rings _ under his breath. Jughead’s scribbling in his notebook again, probably poetry about the freckles on Archie’s collarbone, but Archie knows he’s listening.

“Sing it again,” Jughead whispers when Archie’s done, the last chords fading away into the night. Archie shrugs, playing the first few notes, and watches Jughead’s eyes close.

“I like shiny things, but I’d marry you with paper rings,” Archie sings, meaning it, and Jughead’s lips quirk up in a smile. “You’re the one I want.”

Jughead’s eyes slide open, smile widening into a toothy grin. He reaches out, pulling Archie’s guitar from his lap, and replaces the instrument with himself, wrapping his legs around Archie’s waist and pressing closer, hands cupping Archie’s face as he smirks.

“For how long?” He asks, voice husky, and Archie wraps his arms around Jughead’s waist, their lips almost touching.

“For always,” he whispers, eyes fluttering shut. “Forever.”

Jughead smiles into his mouth, squeezing Archie’s bicep with his fingers.

“I want you forever, too.”

**I like shiny things**

**but I’d marry you with paper rings**

**that’s right**

_ “You’re an idiot, you know that, right?” _

_ Archie shrugs, not even looking away from the movie. _

_ “Yeah. Why?” _

_ Jughead huffs out a laugh, shifting in Archie’s arms. Archie adjusts with him, holding Jughead tighter as he settles on Archie’s chest. _

_ “Because you haven’t looked at me all night.” _

_ Archie looks at him then, eyes wide, and Jughead smirks, leaning up to kiss him. When he pulls back, Archie’s cold fingers are gripping Jughead’s jacket so hard his knuckles have turned white. _

_ “Relax, Superman. You’re not in trouble.” _

_ He settles back down on Archie’s chest and Archie breathes out, feeling his chest shudder beneath Jughead’s warmth. _

_ “Then what…?” _

_ Jughead shrugs. _

_ “Just wanted to make sure you were okay.” _

_ Archie’s shaking, hands closing over Jughead’s as he sits up. _

_ “I - why?” _

_ Jughead rolls his eyes, straddling Archie’s hips and wrapping his arms around his neck, hugging him. _

_ “So I could fix it if you weren’t, dumbass. I love you.” _

_ Archie stiffens, though he doubts Jughead’s even noticed the words have slipped past his lips. Archie sighs, relaxing bit by bit, eventually melting against Jughead and burying his face in his shoulder. _

_ “I love you back,” he mumbles against leather, and closes his eyes when he feels Jughead’s lips against his head. _

_ “I know you do.” _

**darling, you’re the one I want, and**

**I hate accidents except when we went from friends to this**

**that’s right**

**_no one else_ **

_ we sat on dirt and gravel _

_ dry grass and broken leaves _

_ in the autumn after I lost you _

_ I remember because you kissed me five days into July _

_ came back from wherever you were missing our road trip _

_ and kissed me until I couldn’t open my mouth anymore _

_ and you told me that was what you wanted _

_ you wanted me to listen, to hear you, _

_ as you told me everything about the witch that’d touched you in ways _

_ I never could. _

_ you still dream about her sometimes. _

_ I stay up with you _

_ and we make shadow puppets on the wall _

_ you and me _

_ me and you _

_ and no one else. _

_ amidst wild flowers and chirping crickets _

_ it was dark out, and quiet _

_ but I was with you and I was safe _

_ neither of us thinking of our parents _

_ our friends or our siblings _

_ our schoolwork or our lives _

_ just you and me _

_ me and you _

_ and no one else _

_ and you traced in the dirt upside down letters _

_ so I could read them _

_ I LOVE YOU _

_ and in capital letters, too, _

_ but I knew _

_ you meant it quietly _

_ and I _

_ wrote it back _

_ said it back _

_ meant it back _

_ and I _

_ LOVE YOU _

_ back. _

**_JJ, 20XX._ **

**darling, you’re the one I want, and**

**paper rings and picture frames and dirty dreams**

**you’re the one I want**

The two of them don’t really have what one would call “date night”. One of them decides they want to do something, the other drops everything and says okay.

So tonight, they’re where Jughead wants to be - in the projection booth, no movie playing, just Archie’s demos in the beaten-up cassette player. There’s a half-empty pizza box in the corner (half-pineapple and half-pepperoni, though they always just pick off the toppings and eat them separately anyway) and open nail polish bottles littered all over the floor. Their backpacks are stashed in the corner with a box of Oreo crumbs.

Jughead’s black nails are almost dry. Archie can tell because he starts to get reckless with how he touches things, not caring if his fingers brush against anything. Archie’s red ones, though, deep maroon, have been dry for half an hour.

“You haven’t said anything to me in sixty-eight minutes,” Jughead says, the statement coming out as uncertain even as he smirks. “What’s up?”

Archie shrugs, leaning forward to kiss Jughead on the mouth.

“Sometimes I just like to be quiet with you.”

Jughead smiles, bits of cheese and tomato caught in between his teeth, and Archie kisses him again. Jughead grins wider.

He picks up his pencil case from the floor and pulls out a Sharpie, taking Archie’s wrist in his hand. In big block letters he writes,  _ Jughead Jones _ . Archie wrinkles his nose in amusement, smiling when Jughead once more captures his lips with his.

“So you always have me with you,” Jughead says in explanation. “So whenever you feel alone in quiet or in noise or whatever, you can look down and see me. Think of me.”

Archie’s eyes sparkle.

“I always do,” he murmurs, and takes the Sharpie from Jughead’s hand. He pulls down the collar of Jughead’s shirt, Jughead’s hand tight around his wrist still, and writes his own name just above Jughead’s heart.

“So you know you’re my boyfriend,” Archie whispers, not pausing when Jughead opens his mouth. “Not my girlfriend. So you can look at your chest and see something other than what’s not supposed to be there. Because I’m supposed to be there.”

Jughead smiles, soft and close-mouthed, and lets Archie kiss him, falling back onto the floor and wrapping his legs around Archie’s waist, his arms around Archie’s neck.

“Sharpie comes off skin, y’know,” he murmurs as Archie makes his way down Jughead’s neck to his chest, resting his head there. “It won’t stay there forever.”

Archie takes Jughead’s hand, kissing his knuckles.

“Well, I will.”

**I want to drive away with you**

**I want your complications too**

**I want your dreary mondays**

**wrap your arms around me, baby boy**

**_once upon a time…_ **

_ kissed me awake like sleeping beauty from her curse _

_ smiled at me, held my hand, said _

_ “mornin’, princess.” _

_ I’ve been falling ever since. _

  
  


**_used to you_ **

_ you’d think after years we’d get used to this _

_ saying I love you, _

_ hearing it back _

_ but no _

_ I still wait with my breath held _

_ thinking each second that passes without your copycat response an eternity _

_ funny enough, I’ve yet to wait an eternity _

_ can I spend one with you? _

  
  


**_couple_ **

_ we are clasped hands and sticky mouths _

_ I know you bought me chocolates and I know you hid them in your sock drawer _

_ because I ate them while trying on your father’s wedding ring _

_ in a box and waiting for you to ask me _

_ when people told me about love when I was younger _

_ they’d tell me my first wouldn’t be my last _

_ but I guess we’re a special case. _

  
  


**_sharpie love_ **

_ when you kissed me goodnight _

_ you kissed my heart too _

_ wrote your name over it where it’d been before, having faded away _

_ I’ll write my name on your wrist one day when you least expect it _

_ and I’ll give you my own father’s ring _

_ asking for forever _

_ asking if you’ll allow me to get used to hearing I love you from your lips _

_ asking you to marry me _

  
  


**_… the end_ **

_ yes. _

**_JJ, 20XX._ **

**I like shiny things**

**but I’d marry you with paper rings**

**that’s right**

“Do you think soulmates exist?”

Archie breaks the silence with the question, having grown tired of the voices in his head. Jughead doesn’t look at him, eyes still caught on the stars, but his hand finds Archie’s in the dark and squeezes.

“No,” he whispers. “But if they did, you’d be mine.”

**you’re the one I want**

**I hate accidents except when we went from friends to this**

**darling, you’re the one I want**

“I wish we could be together forever,” Archie whispers, curled around Jughead on the grass. Some movie they’ve both stopped paying attention to ( _ Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind _ ) is playing on the large screen, volume so low it’s hard to hear. “Like this, y’know. Just you and me, like the rest of the world doesn’t matter.”

Jughead sits up in Archie’s arms, head propped up on his elbow and brow furrowed.

“Why can’t we?”

Archie’s heart beats fast in his chest, picking up speed. He shrugs and looks away, not wanting to explain but knowing Jughead will make him anyway.

“Because I’ll kill myself before twenty-one and you might too.”

Jughead is silent. He doesn’t say it’s stupid, or untrue, nor does he confirm it, instead taking Archie’s hand in his.

“Hey. Look at me.”

Archie does, knowing his eyes are probably wet. Jughead’s eyes are soft and sad, love subdued behind disappointment.

“I can’t promise anything about me. You’re right, maybe I’ll kill myself because there are too many mirrors in this world and my body is fucked up. But you know what else is in this world?”

Archie shakes his head, because that just about sums it up. Jughead smiles gently, cupping Archie’s face in his free hand.

“You,” he whispers. “And everyday I do look in the mirror, I see your name on my chest, and I think that maybe I’m not so ugly. That maybe I can be who I wanna be, one day. You’re not a permanent fix, sure, but you’re the best one I’ve got. And I don’t wanna lose you.”

His voice lowers as he leans closer, Archie’s hand coming up to close around Jughead’s wrist.

“So anytime I wanna stop living, I just think of your name on my skin. And of Jellybean, and my dad, and yours, and Veronica and Betty. I think of all the people who would care, even if it doesn’t seem like they would right then. And when I’m done listing their names in my head, I start over. Again and again until I can walk away from the noose. Or the pills or the gun or the razor. I think of you.”

Jughead smiles guiltily, Archie’s eyes wide as they watch him.

“I know it’s not perfect. I know life sucks, especially right now. And while I can’t promise we won’t end up dead, I can promise that I won’t leave until you do. That you’ll always have me.”

“Even if we break up?” Archie squeaks, eyes glassy, and Jughead laughs quietly, kissing him.

“Always means always, Archie,” he whispers when he pulls away, pressing their foreheads together. “But I doubt that’ll ever happen.”

Archie smiles, then, finally.

“Yeah,” he mumbles. “Me too.”

**darling, you’re the one I want**

**in paper rings and picture frames and all my dreams**

**_changes_ **

_ life changes, people tell you _

_ like it’s a bad thing _

_ while I’m here watching you grow _

_ lucky enough to see you doodle on your wrists until they’re clean _

_ until you smile at me _

_ in two days I’ll be a boy _

_ and not like before, pressing my body back into itself and suffocating _

_ not hating showers and mirrors _

_ no, I’ll be me this time _

_ for real _

_ and when I come out of the hospital _

_ brand new and reaching for your hand _

_ you smile at me _

_ I can’t promise it’ll be easy _

_ because I know nothing we love is _

_ but you are my favorite person _

_ the one I’m gonna marry someday _

_ the one I’m gonna promise all I can to one day _

_ so when you ask, _

_ “forever?” _

_ and I answer, _

_ “forever. and ever and ever and ever. and a few days after that.” _

_ well, forever’s barely started, baby, _

_ so hold on _

_ take the wheel with one hand, hold mine in the other _

_ roll down the windows _

_ look over to the passenger seat where I am _

_ and _

_ smile at me. _

**_JJ, 20XX._ **


	3. Archie's house

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> title and lyrics from "Cornelia Street" by Taylor Swift
> 
> songs mentioned:  
> I Wouldn’t Mind (He Is We)  
> merry christmas, darling (Christina Perri)

_ and then there was hope folded into the joy. _

_ so when it rose, it doubled in volume. _

_ I shut my laptop, conscious of my breathing. _

_ outside, it was starting to rain, and suddenly _

_ I wanted to feel it on my skin. _

_ \- Billy Merrell (Vanilla) _

**we were in the backseat**

**drunk on something stronger than the drinks in the bar**

**I rent a place on cornelia street**

**I say casually in the car**

**_shifting clouds_ **

_ I remember the day you dragged me home _

_ like it was yesterday, your hand warm in mine and your jacket bunched around my shoulders _

_ I loved you, y’know _

_ I think more than I ever had before _

_ that day _

_ you opened up all your doors to me _

_ it was raining as we walked down empty streets _

_ sometimes a car would pass us by _

_ but no one offered us a ride _

_ I’m glad, in hindsight _

_ because _

_ by the time we reached your house we were soaking wet and cold _

_ but you wanted to kiss me anyway _

_ your dad wanted to hug me anyway _

_ I wanted you to anyway _

_ so you did. _

_ at dinner I was quiet _

_ afraid to talk, afraid to ask _

_ even with your hand clasped in mine under the table, grounding me _

_ I was scared to hear an answer _

_ or worse, a question _

_ but neither of you said a word. _

_ you watched me as I didn’t eat, _

_ and didn’t ask me why _

_ instead smiled _

_ as if I was worth it, _

_ whatever it was _

_ I wonder if I still am, sometimes, _

_ on the mornings I’m up too early and wake you, _

_ or the nights my cold feet keep your eyes open, _

_ or the afternoons I want to close all the windows and won’t go outside, _

_ but then I look at you _

_ and I know. _

_ thank you. _

**_JJ, 20XX._ **

**we were a fresh page on the desk**

**filling in the blanks as we go**

**as if the street lights pointed in an arrow head**

**leading us home**

Jughead’s not sure just how much Fred knows about his and Archie’s relationship. It’s not like they’re subtle about it, but then again they’ve always been closer than most.

I mean, for god’s sake - they sleep in the same goddamn  _ bed _ . Curled up together too, no skin not touching, whispering things to each other in the dark. When one of them wakes up crying, because of whatever which nightmare, the other holds them, shirtless and sweaty and warm in one another’s arms even after Fred has burst in, eyes wide with panic. They don’t talk about it, ever, but… there’s no way Fred hasn’t at least guessed.

But they haven’t told him. For some reason that Jughead has yet to figure out.

Because it made sense to keep it a secret at school, for a little while - Riverdale isn’t exactly known for being the most accepting place on the planet. Jughead and Archie have been lucky, and still, there are people they need to hide from. Run from.

But there’s no reason that Fred shouldn’t know, at least not one that Jughead sees. So when Archie’s fingers close around his under the table, squeezing so tight their knuckles turn white, Jughead knows what’s about to happen and yet is just as surprised as Fred by the river of words suddenly spilling from Archie’s mouth.

“Dad. I can’t - I haven’t - I like boys,” he blurts. Fred raises an eyebrow and Jughead feels his other hand cover Archie’s subconsciously. “Girls. Girls too, but right now, I - I like a boy. I like - I  _ love _ -”

“Jughead.”

Fred smiles as Archie’s mouth drops open, closing slightly as he fishes for words. Jughead squeezes his hand, adjusting to thread their fingers together.

“Yes,” Archie breathes finally, eyes glassy. “Yes, him. Jughead. I love Jughead.”

And Jughead’s heard it a million times, but it doesn’t change anything. He looks up at Archie, lips parted around his boyfriend’s name as the redhead meets his eyes.

“I love you,” Archie whispers.

Jughead can’t breathe.

**and I hope I never lose you, hope it never ends**

**I’d never walk cornelia street again**

**that’s the kinda heartbreak time could never mend**

**I’d never walk cornelia street again**

There are glow stars on Archie’s ceiling, names scratched into each of them in Sharpie. Jughead’s is on the biggest star, right above Archie’s pillow.

Jughead stares up at it, mesmerized. Archie’s curled into Jughead’s side, eyes closed and arms holding himself close. Jughead’s arm is around him, a blanket thrown half-hazardly over them.

“You know I love you back, right?” Jughead rasps into the abyss. Archie doesn’t move, doesn’t open his eyes.

“Yeah,” he whispers. “I know.”

**and baby, I get mystified by how this city screams your name**

**and baby, I’m so terrified of if you ever walk away**

**I’d never walk cornelia street again**

**_imagine_ **

_ sometimes I think we take love for granted _

_ cold fingers on warm skin _

_ your prints decorating my chest, marking me yours _

_ as if you needed to _

_ I kiss every freckle on your wrists _

_ every mole, every scar _

_ I think they’re beautiful _

_ beautifully bare _

_ you’re beautiful, you know _

_ at least in my eyes _

_ on sunday morning _

_ I wake up in your arms and you’re pressing your mouth against my chest _

_ downwards and sideways and up, all over _

_ whispering, _

_ “princess, so beautiful, you’re so beautiful, my princess,” _

_ and I believe you _

_ I do _

_ kiss me better _

_ not a cure, just some medicine _

_ my beautiful angel _

_ baby, I’m here _

_ to stay. _

**_JJ, 20XX._ **

**windows swung right open, autumn air**

**jacket around my shoulders is yours**

**we bless the rains on cornelia street**

**memorize the creaks in the floor**

Jughead wakes up to Archie’s raspy voice emanating from the kitchen. He smiles to himself, throwing the covers off and wandering downstairs in only his plaid pajama pants and beanie.

“Forever is a long time but I wouldn’t mind spending it by your side,” Archie sings as he comes into view, Jughead leaning against the doorway and watching his boyfriend dance around the kitchen. Archie’s earbuds are turned up too loud, making him oblivious to Jughead’s eyes on him.

The whole kitchen smells like pancakes, mix bubbling in the pan next to another of sizzling bacon. Jughead wanders closer, seeing the steaming cup of coffee waiting for him on the counter next to Archie’s usual chamomile tea. He leans back against the marble, taking a sip and relishing in how it burns his throat.

“Good morning,” he says, voice husky with sleep, and laughs when Archie spins around, eyes widening as they catch sight of Jughead, a grin stretching across his face. Archie blushes, smiling back.

“Good morning,” he whispers, taking out his earbuds and throwing them onto the island before stepping towards Jughead, hands on his hips as Jughead smiles at him.

“Pretty, by the way,” Jughead murmurs, knowing Archie will get it, and sure enough he does, leaning down to kiss Jughead on the mouth, the both of them smiling into it.

“Thanks,” Archie rasps when he pulls away. “For you, of course.”

Jughead grins.

“Of course.”

Archie takes the coffee from his hands and sets it down on the counter, grabbing Jughead’s hand and twirling him around. Jughead laughs, stumbling a bit but enjoying himself nonetheless.

Archie smiles when Jughead crashes back into his chest, their lips meeting once again in a bittersweet black chamomile kiss.

**back when we were card sharks, playing games**

**I thought you were leading me on**

**I packed my bags, left cornelia street**

**before you even knew I was gone**

By the time Fred comes down, hair mussed and eyelids sagging, Jughead and Archie have settled down to eat. Archie smiles as his dad makes himself a cup of coffee, leaning back against the counter and facing Archie and Jughead.

Archie’s eyes flick down to his and Jughead’s hands, clasped on top of the marble island in between them. Jughead hardly notices, too engrossed in the funnies section of the newspaper to pay much attention. Archie’s humming and knocking his feet against the rungs of the stool, providing comforting background noise for Jughead to read to.

Their pancakes are mostly gone, syrup and peanut butter sloppily seeping across their plates. Fred’s smile softens.

“Saved none for me?” He teases, and Jughead answers without looking up.

“On the stove, Dad. Whip cream’s in the fridge if you want it.”

Archie looks over at him, surprised, and squeezes his hand. Jughead squeezes back without ever looking up.

Fred just smiles, wandering over to the fridge.

“Thanks, son.”

**but then you called, showed your hand**

**I turned around before I hit the tunnel**

**sat on the roof, you and I**

By four in the afternoon they’ve grown bored with video games. There’s only so many they can play before the characters start to blend into the background - or, y’know, before Jughead falls asleep on Archie’s chest after “closing his eyes for a second” to try and fix it.

(Not that Archie minds.)

So now they’re sitting on the steps, Archie’s arm around Jughead’s waist as his boyfriend leans against him. Archie’s sucking on a fudgesicle while Jughead stuffs handfuls of popcorn into his mouth from the bowl in Archie’s lap.

You’d think they’d be worried, in a town like Riverdale. Worried that someone would see them as they pass by, make up stories, start rumors, or call it what it is and spread that. But no. It seems almost irrelevant, now, with everything that’s happened to them, what other people think.

Then again, here they are. Making up stories about the people who walk by, the people paying no attention to the two boys in love on the front steps of the porch.

“I bet she has three dogs,” Jughead says when a blonde woman in a green cardigan passes by. “Also a ginger cat and a hamster. She’s a software engineer with an Asian girlfriend.”

Archie snorts, raising his eyebrows.

“Nah, c’mon, Jug. She’s clearly got a lumberjack boyfriend and is addicted to meth. And she isn’t a dog person, or cat or hamster person or whatever, she’s got a  _ bunny _ . And probably really likes skittles.”

Jughead rolls his eyes but smiles, leaning in for a kiss, which Archie happily gives him. As he pulls away, Jughead licks his lips.

“Mmm,” he rasps. “You taste like chocolate.”

Archie grins.

“Fudgesicles, Jug. The secret of life.”

Jughead’s the one who snorts this time, tucking his head into the crook of Archie’s neck.

“Sure, Arch. Sure. What about him?”

Archie looks up from nuzzling Jughead’s beanie, eyes wide and bright as they catch sight of the short brunette man across the street.

“Oh! I know, he’s a -”

Jughead rolls his eyes in exasperation, lifting his head to shut Archie up with his smile.

**I hope I never lose you, hope it never ends**

**I’d never walk cornelia street again**

**that’s the kinda heartbreak time could never mend**

**I’d never walk cornelia street again**

_ “So there’s this thing called asexuality.” _

_ Archie doesn’t look up from his math homework, tongue sticking out of the corner of his mouth as he concentrates ( _ goddammit, he’s adorable _ , Jughead thinks). _

_ “Yeah. I know, we learned about it in biology like a month ago.” _

_ Jughead sighs, shutting his laptop. This may end up being a longer conversation than he wanted. _

_ “Yeah, we did. But it’s, like, a thing in humans too, y’know. There are people who don’t want sex.” _

_ Jughead waits with bated breath as Archie lifts his head, meeting Jughead’s eyes. He waits for him to wrinkle his nose, or say that’s not a thing, or something else negative. _

_ Archie does wrinkle his nose ( _ fuck, that’s cute too _ ), but his hand inches towards Jughead’s on the carpet, so maybe it’s not a bad thing? _

_ “Are you talking about you?” He asks, voice quiet as he looks down at their fingers, touching now. “Because I already know. And it’s not gonna change anything.” _

_ Jughead feels his eyes widen, fingers curling around Archie’s on the floor. _

_ “Really?” _

_ Archie smiles, leaning in to kiss Jughead’s pink cheek. _

_ “‘Course, Jug. What did you think I would say?” _

_ Jughead shrugs, looking down at their intertwined hands. _

_ “I don’t know. Most people say I just haven’t met the right person yet,” he whispers, heart hurting even thinking about it. Swallowing, he feels his Adam’s apple bob and looks up again, a small smile on his lips. “But I already found you.” _

_ Archie grins, pressing his mouth against Jughead’s like a hero’s to a princess’, and Jughead revels in it, the warm gooey feeling collecting in his stomach as he pushes closer to his boyfriend, to the love of his life. _

_ “And I found you,” Archie murmurs against his lips. “Wasn’t even that hard.” _

_ Jughead snorts, pressing his forehead against Archie’s as they pull away and smile. _

_ “Yeah,” he whispers. “Really wasn’t.” _

_ Archie beams, leaning in to kiss him again. _

**and baby, I get mystified by how this city screams your name**

**and baby, I’m so terrified of if you ever walk away**

**I’d never walk cornelia street again**

Archie has a habit of falling asleep halfway through movies. He’s only see his favorite the whole way through ( _ Instant Family _ . He cried. Don’t tell anyone), and even that was only once. So when he slowly slumps against Jughead, resting his head on his shoulder, and starts snoring five minutes later, Jughead’s not surprised.

Feeling his boyfriend’s breath even out, Jughead drapes his legs over Archie’s thighs, lying down on the couch and pulling Archie to his chest, running his fingers through the redhead’s hair. Archie snuffles in his sleep, nuzzling into Jughead’s chest, and Jughead smiles, pressing a kiss to Archie’s hair and closing his eyes.

“Y’know, on Archie’s first day of kindergarten, he told me he’d met the girl he was gonna marry.”

Jughead opens his eyes, meeting Fred’s across the room. Archie’s dad is leaning against the doorway, arms crossed and eyes twinkling, a gentle smile on his face.

“I didn’t believe him, of course. No kid that young knows something that important,” Fred continues, voice soft. “But then in fifth grade, he said he’d met the boy he was gonna marry. Same person, having grown and changed over the years - you.”

Jughead blushes, arms around Archie tightening as Fred comes closer, sitting down next to their feet, Jughead’s toes pressed against the grayed man’s thighs.

“I knew then he meant it,” Fred says, voice barely above a whisper now as he looks into Jughead’s wide eyes. “And I know he still means it now.”

Jughead turns scarlet red, burying his face in Archie’s hair. Fred smiles, squeezing Jughead’s leg.

“I’m waiting,” Jughead mumbles, feeling a grin stretch across his face. “I found your ring in his sock drawer.”

He chances a glance upwards and is rewarded with Fred’s warm smile.

“Your ring, now, I suppose,” Fred says nonchalantly. “If you say yes.”

Jughead’s cheeks hurt.

“Yes,” he blurts. “To anything, with him. Yeah.”

Fred beams, Archie snores, and Jughead laughs, sinking into the blue cushions like an ocean of love, feeling home surround him.

**you hold my hand on the street**

**walk me back to that apartment**

**years ago, we were just inside**

**_vows_ **

_ we were too young to know what it meant _

_ when we made them _

_ backs pressed against the wall under your desk _

_ smiling through the dark _

_ blind to everything but each other _

_ kind of like now, except not a metaphor _

_ I weaved purple and grey and white and black together _

_ for you it was purple, pink and blue _

_ and stitched into them later with shaking hands and red thread, _

_ HIS _

_ not knowing how important these would be _

_ how much we would mean it one day _

_ when we’d finished, you whispered that _

_ “now we’ll be best friends forever, Jug,” _

_ unaware of how much best friends would come to encompass _

_ we are defined by millions upon billions of pet names and pick-up lines _

_ but HIS is who we are _

_ I tied mine around your wrist _

_ and it felt like a promise. _

_ one I know _

_ I’ll never break. _

**_JJ, 20XX._ **

**barefoot in the kitchen**

**sacred new beginnings**

**that became my religion, listen**

_ “Your parents are here to pick you up!” Archie yells, watching from the doorway of the treehouse for any sign of movement. He waits, crouched low, for Jughead to come running from the bushes, to look wildly around for his parents. _

_ Jughead doesn’t come. Instead, his voice sounds from the bushes on the right side of the porch. _

_ “Nice try, Andrews!” He yells, amused. “But this is  _ my _ backyard!” _

_ Archie swears under his breath, then blushes as he realizes what he’s said. Jughead crawls out from under the porch, covered in leaves and dirt and grinning, beanie lopsided on his head. _

_ “You can swear now, y’know,” Jughead says breathless, eyes twinkling up at Archie from where he lies on the ground, chest heaving. “We’re thir-fucking-teen.” _

_ Archie smiles, braces showing, and shrugs. _

_ “Race you back to my house?” He offers, climbing down the ladder, and Jughead nods, scrambling up from the ground with glinting eyes. _

_ “Totally,” he says, a playful growl in his voice, but then Archie smiles and Jughead’s taking his hand, running beside him instead of trying to fly past. _

_ “Fuck racing,” he gasps when they slam open the door to Archie’s room together, hands tangled in each other’s hair and shirts. “Fuck swearing and school and life.” _

_ He buries his face in Archie’s neck as they collapse back onto the bed, rolling around in Archie’s sheets until they settle in each other’s arms, pressed too close to tell who’s who, lips almost touching, eyes closed. _

_ “Fuck all of that, just let me be with you.” _

**I hope I never lose you**

**I’d never walk cornelia street again**

**never again**

“Remember when we used to play tag here?” Jughead asks, leaning on the rake in his hands, digging into the ground. “When we thought friends was all there was?”

Archie hums, raking the last few leaves into the giant pile they’ve created. Jughead smiles softly at the sight.

“Yeah,” Archie says, not looking up. “Why?”

Jughead shakes his head, dropping the rake to the ground and wandering over to his boyfriend.

“No reason,” he whispers, taking Archie’s hand from behind. “Not really.”

Archie turns to look at him, a question on his lips, when Jughead grins, pushing his boyfriend into the pile.

“What the fuck?!” Archie shouts, disappearing into brown and orange. He resurfaces with a glare, Jughead smirking at him from the grass.

Archie reaches out and grabs Jughead by the scarf, pulling him down on top of him. Jughead shrieks, landing with a blush in Archie’s arms, surrounded by crackling leaves.

This time, it’s Archie who smirks as Jughead clings to him, scowling like there’s no worse place to be but here. Archie presses their foreheads together, a grin playing about his lips as he whispers.

“Guess what?”

Jughead rolls his eyes, but the effect is diminished by his cheeks flushing red.

“What?” He says, loudly, and Archie nuzzles their noses together. Jughead glowers.

“I love you,” Archie coos, drawing out the last syllable, and Jughead rolls his eyes again.

“Love you back,” he grumbles, struggling to push away, but then Archie’s kissing him and he gives up, melting against his boyfriend.

“You’re a dumbass, you know that?” He mumbles into Archie’s mouth. Archie giggles (fucking giggles.  _ Giggles _ . Jughead just might die).

“Yeah. But I’m your dumbass,” Archie says, but he’s smiling so wide Jughead decides to let the cliche line pass, shutting Archie up with another kiss.

“I hate you,” he whispers, and Archie giggles again ( _ goddammit _ , he’s - fuck, he’s cute).

“No you don’t.”

Jughead finally smiles, wrapping his arms around Archie’s neck and pulling him deeper down into the pile of leaves, pressing their bodies closer until there’s no part of Archie he isn’t touching.

“No, I don’t.”

**and baby, I get mystified by how this city screams your name**

**and baby, I’m so terrified of if you ever walk away**

**I’d never walk cornelia street again**

**I’d never walk cornelia street again**

Jughead’s father used to say you knew you were in love when the quiet wasn’t something you had to fill. When the space wasn’t something you had to close.

Jughead, back then, had thought he was wrong - FP and Gladys had never done anything but shout at each other, shove at each other. But then, at nine years old, Jughead caught a glimpse of his dad and Archie’s standing next to each other, a few feet apart and silent.

Jughead thinks, now, that his dad was right. That maybe love isn’t what movies say it is, but rather what you feel it is. Not what you see, or what you hear, but what you think. And, Jughead thinks, he and Archie are in love.

Words are important, sure. They mean something, something necessary. They offer reassurance, comfort, and kindness; the same as hugs and kisses and holding hands. But they’re not everything.

The fire’s warm, coloring their fronts golden. Archie’s fingers pluck at his guitar strings, muttering lyrics under his breath. Jughead types out a sentence, deletes it, and types out the same one again, changing a single word. They don’t look at each other, don’t speak. Snow falls outside and the moon shines down on it, creating sparkles in the air.

This is love, Jughead thinks, writes, knowing the words will mean nothing later. All they’ll do is make him smile, make him remember, because they can’t make him feel like this does again.

But Archie’s arms closing around him, warm breath on his neck as he whines for Jughead to shut his laptop, well.

That’ll bring the feeling back tenfold.

**I don’t wanna lose you, hope it never ends**

**I’d never walk cornelia street again**

Archie’s the one who insists they put up a tree. Fred is hesitant, with Mary having left and FP being locked up in a jail cell, and Jughead just doesn’t want to, missing his sister too much to celebrate without her.

They put up a tree anyway.

It’s too tall, nearly touching the ceiling, so they need a ladder to hang ornaments towards the top. So they create a sort of assembly line, with Jughead fishing out ornaments from various boxes and then handing them to Fred, who hangs them on the lower and middle branches. Once Fred has a few ornaments to keep him occupied, Jughead offers some to Archie on the ladder, decorating the top.

“Look,” Jughead says softly, handing Archie an angel. “You.”

Archie smiles, taking the ornament gently from Jughead’s hand and bending over to kiss him on the forehead, then the mouth, then the nose and the cheeks as Jughead stands there, still and smiling.

“Thanks, princess,” he murmurs, eyes twinkling. Jughead brushes his hand over his flat chest, knowing Archie’s name is written there, even though it’s in invisible ink.

“Sure thing,” he whispers. “Anytime.”

Archie smiles, knocking their noses together before standing back up and placing the angel right near the very top. Jughead heads back over to the box of ornaments, digging around for another good one, and Fred turns up the music on the old stereo.

With the fire lit and snow falling outside, Fred bustling around him and Archie singing along to  _ merry christmas, darling _ , Jughead thinks maybe Christmas won’t be so bad here after all.

**I don’t wanna lose you**

On Christmas morning, Jughead wakes up to Archie snoring on his chest.

The house is quiet, no screeching or laughter to be heard. He glances over to the doorway and sees full stockings waiting there, and he hears soft music coming from downstairs. It feels less like home than it ever has before.

Jughead sighs, gently pushing Archie off of him and standing up, pulling on some plaid pajama pants and his beanie. He sits down on the floor by the end of the bed, pulling his knees to his chest and wrapping his arms around them. It’s cold. He’s cold.

Archie wakes up when Jughead finally reaches out to take his hand, the one hanging over the side of the bed as he snores. The redhead smiles softly, yawning as he pulls on grey sweatpants and a white t-shirt. As he’s picking up the stockings from by the door, Jughead stands up, wandering over to him.

“We should go downstairs,” he says quietly. “I think your dad’s waiting.”

Archie nods, reaching down to thread their fingers together. Jughead feels a smile flit across his face for a brief moment, then disappear as Fred comes into view, sitting alone in the rocking chair by the fire as he sips a cup of coffee, watching the snow fall outside.

Jughead doesn’t utter a word even as Fred says good morning. Not when the sound of paper ripping and thank you’s fills the air, not when he smiles tightly again upon unwrapping a gorgeous set of purple, black, grey and white notebooks (Archie gets a pair of purple, pink and blue sneakers. Jughead thinks he likes it when Fred’s sarcastic). He’s just… quiet. Numb.

He’s just finished the first poem in the first page of one of his new notebooks when the doorbell rings. He and Archie look up as Fred smiles, pushing himself up and out of the chair.

“Guess your present’s here, Jug,” Fred says, a smile lighting up his face, and Jughead stands with Archie and follows him to the door. At Fred’s nod, he turns the knob and opens it.

Jellybean smiles at him.

“Hey, Juggie.”

Jughead’s lips part around his sister’s name, arms going limp by his sides as he drops to his knees, staring up at her in shock. Her smile fades as he keeps muttering under his breath, Archie and Fred’s worried whispers growing in the background.

He suddenly reaches out and yanks her down towards him, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her into him, burying his face in her neck, tears sliding down her skin from his eyes.

“I missed you,” he chokes out, holding her tighter as Fred shuts the door to keep the warm air in. “God, I missed you so much.”

He feels Jellybean’s own tears against his collarbone, her thin fingers digging into his sides.

“I missed you too,” she rasps. “I missed you so much too, big bro,” and Jughead cries.

**I rent a place on cornelia street**

**I said casually in the car**

**_us again_ **

_ I never thought I’d see you again. _

_ I could’ve sworn, that day she took you, that was it. _

_ my baby sister, gone, _

_ torn away with only shreds left to hold on to, _

_ shreds I kept losing. _

_ I have never been so happy _

_ as I was when I saw you _

_ on the steps that day, snow in your hair _

_ I mean it. _

_ I will never leave you again. _

_ I will never let anyone take you again. _

_ I will never stop looking for you if they do, _

_ never stop writing your name into stories, _

_ never stop hanging your pictures on walls. _

_ I will always be there for you, you hear me? _

_ if not, listen up - _

_ I am your brother, and you are my sister, and _

_ nothing _

_ not the sun the earth the moon the sky the stars _

_ time nor place nor person _

_ could ever, will ever _

_ change that. _

_ Merry Christmas, Bean. _

_ welcome home. _

**_JJ, 20XX._ **


	4. Pop's

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> title and lyrics from "Afterglow" by Taylor Swift
> 
> songs mentioned/this chapter was inspired by:  
> I’ll Keep You Safe (Sleeping At Last)  
> No One Knows Us (BANNERS, Carly Paige)  
> if we never met (John K)  
> what finding your soulmate feels like (Marina Lin)  
> Fire On Fire (Sam Smith)  
> Stay Stay Stay (Taylor Swift)  
> you were good to me (Jeremy Zucker, Chelsea Cutler)

_ I’m in love with you. _

_ and I know that love is just a shout into the void _

_ and that oblivion is inevitable _

_ and that we’re all doomed _

_ and that there will come a day _

_ when all our labor has been returned to dust _

_ and I know the sun will swallow _

_ the only earth we’ll ever have _

_ and I am in love with you. _

_ \- John Greene (The Fault In Our Stars) _

**I blew things out of proportion, now you’re blue**

**put you in jail for something you didn’t do**

**I pinned your hands behind your back**

**thought I had reason to attack, but no**

“You two are disgusting.”

Jughead doesn’t look up from his notebook at Veronica’s words, scribbling down a couple more lines of a poem. Archie’s fingers tighten around Jughead’s sleeve, body stiffening against his, and Jughead drops his notebook and pen onto the table, curling into Archie’s side and reaching for his hand.

“Look who’s talking,” he bites back. Veronica smirks, Betty blushing under her arm.

“You two are worse,” Veronica says, shrugging. “Childhood sweethearts, soulmates and all that shit.”

Jughead rolls his eyes, squeezing Archie’s fingers under the table.

“Soulmates don’t exist, Vee,” he snarks. “And how about you and Betty’s whole ‘fell for the mysterious new kid’ thing?”

This time it’s Veronica who rolls her eyes, pulling Betty closer and pressing a kiss to her temple.

“Touché,” she says. “Fine. Tie.”

She holds out a hand across the table and Jughead shakes it, smirking and sinking deeper into Archie’s arms, back against his chest.

“Sure, Vee. Whatever helps you sleep at night.”

Veronica huffs out a laugh.

“Asshole.”

**fighting with a true love is boxing with no gloves**

**chemistry til it blows up, til there’s no us**

**why’d I have to break what I love so much**

**it’s on your face, and I’m to blame, I need to say**

**_gross_ **

_ Vee says we’re disgusting _

_ and despite _

_ her and Betty’s goo-goo eyes, I can’t help but agree _

_ though I think we’re only disgusting under others’ eyes _

_ alone, I’d call it intimacy _

_ don’t worry _

_ I love to be close to you, _

_ love to feel close to you. _

_ no one’s words could ever convince me to step away. _

_ the happy couples _

_ are the ones people wrinkle their noses at _

_ thinking, lucky them _

_ I think, lucky me _

_ to be happy enough to be gross _

_ to be the ones people wrinkle their noses at _

_ after the girls left _

_ and all the other customers too _

_ when it was only us, me and you and Pop behind the counter, _

_ you went over to the jukebox with a quarter _

_ you found stuck to gum under the table _

_ put on sleeping at last, knowing they’re my favorite _

_ “don’t be afraid,” you sang, _

_ “our mistakes, they were bound to be made, _

_ but I promise you I’ll keep you safe.” _

_ and I believed you, whispering the same words back _

_ I know I say it every day, but _

_ I love you _

_ and if anyone were still around, they’d call us gross _

_ say we’re disgusting _

_ wrinkle their noses _

_ well, _

_ I think we deserve _

_ to be happy enough to be gross. _

_ don’t you? _

**_JJ, 20XX._ **

**hey, it’s all me, in my head**

**I’m the one who burned us down**

**but it’s not what I meant**

**sorry that I hurt you**

Sometimes Pop will let them stay after hours. Jughead’s never said why, but Archie’s pretty sure it has something to do with Jughead’s home situation last year. Whatever it is, as Pop’s hanging the closed sign on the door, he turns his head towards the boys, Jughead tucked under Archie’s arm, and smiles, nodding his approval.

“You boys stay as late as you want, okay?” He says. “I’m gonna head out, but you remember where the key is, right, Jughead?”

Jughead nods, arms crossed over his chest and face blank, but Archie can see how his eyes twinkle.

“Yeah, Pop. Thanks. I’ll lock up.”

Pop nods once more, pushing open the door and heading out into the night. The bell jingles as the door settles and Jughead looks up at Archie, grinning. There’s whip cream on his lips from the milkshake, so Archie leans down to kiss it off.

Jughead’s body shakes against Archie’s as he laughs, pulling away to slip under the table. He peers up at Archie from beneath the wood and smiles, eyes glinting in the dark, and takes Archie’s hand, tugging.

“C’mon.”

Archie relents, helpless to his boyfriend’s smile, and sinks down to the floor, letting Jughead pull him closer and closer until they’re pressed right up against each other, Jughead’s fingers intertwined with Archie’s.

“Why do you drag me down here so much?” Archie asks, exasperated and teasing, and Jughead shrugs, pulling a Sharpie out of his pocket and ripping the cap off with his teeth. He presses the felt tip to the underside of Archie’s wrist and Archie kisses his head, letting his lips linger as he breathes Jughead in, closing his eyes.

They stay like that, Jughead scribbling and Archie quietly waiting, for at least ten minutes, maybe more. Jughead lets go of Archie’s left arm after awhile and moves on to his right, drawings and words covering Archie’s skin up to his elbows.

When he finally opens his eyes again, Jughead’s just finishing up, Archie’s arms now adorned with stars and planets and minions and footballs and big block letters and song lyrics.

_ I need you closer _

_ can we go somewhere _

_ no one knows us _

_ leave our world behind _

More litter his wrists - smiley faces and messy doodles of Bunnicula. Words that are entirely, completely, absolutely Jughead’s, Jughead’s and Archie’s and no one else’s.

_ I love you. _

_ you’re beautiful. _

_ you are my favorite person. _

_ you are my life. _

_ my Superman. _

Gently, Archie pries the Sharpie from Jughead’s fingers, dropping it to the floor. Then, he lifts the hem of Jughead’s shirt, shifting so his boyfriend’s back is pressed against the booth, Archie kneeling in between his legs, bent over him.

“May I?” He whispers. Jughead swallows, Adam’s apple bobbing, and nods.

Archie lifts Jughead’s shirt over his head, lacing their fingers together when Jughead’s flat and freckled chest is bare and beautiful before him. Archie picks up the Sharpie from the ground and presses his palm over Jughead’s heart, tracing the Sharpie around his hand.

Pulling away, in the handprint he writes some lyrics of his own, Jughead’s chest moving up and down steadily under the tip, Jughead’s fingers loose in his.

_ if we never met _

_ I’d be drunk waking up in someone else’s bed _

_ I’d be lost in a crowded room of fake friends _

_ I wouldn’t even know what love is _

_ if we never met _

Jughead blushes pink as Archie mutters the words out loud, forehead scrunched up as he concentrates, eyes locked on Jughead’s chest. Sitting back on his ankles, he smiles, Jughead’s eyes wide as they meet Archie’s.

“By the way,” Archie murmurs, “I love you back.”

Jughead swallows again, nodding, and lifts his free hand to comb through Archie’s hair, pulling him in.

**I don’t wanna do, I don’t wanna do this to you**

**I don’t wanna lose, I don’t wanna lose this with you**

**I need to say, hey, it’s all me, just don’t go**

**meet me in the afterglow**

“So when are you gonna marry him?”

Archie glances down at Jellybean, hands in his pockets. She’s smirking, eyes sparkling, and he grins, huffing out a laugh and shrugging.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he says, voice low just in case Jughead could somehow hear him. Sure, Archie’s boyfriend is currently spinning himself around a streetlight while Veronica and Betty twirl around him, the three of them laughing loudly, but you never know.

Jellybean rolls her eyes.

“I’m not an idiot, Archibald,” she drawls. “I found the ring in your sock drawer.”

Archie doesn’t look her way. There’s a slight smile playing about his lips, amused. Jughead’s now hugging Veronica, holding her tight against him as she laughs at something he’s whispered in her ear, combing her fingers through his hair. Betty’s got her eyes closed, swinging around the streetlight in Jughead’s place now, a soft smile on her face.

Jellybean smiles slyly.

“I also found a ring in Jughead’s room.”

Archie’s head whips toward her then, eyes wide and no longer following the headlights of cars as they pass by the Pop’s parking lot they’re fooling around in.

“You…” Archie says, breathless. “You found  _ what _ ?”

Jellybean laughs, reaching out and tugging Archie’s hand from his pocket, grasping his fingers in hers.

“My brother’s gonna marry you, Archiekins.”

Archie’s lips curl into a smile, widening to a blinding beam as Jughead stumbles over to them, laughing with an arm around Betty and Veronica each. He pulls away from them as Archie’s arms slide around his waist, Archie’s mouth meeting his and demanding Jughead’s immediate attention as Veronica rolls her eyes in mock disgust and Betty takes Jellybean’s hand, pulling her into a hug.

Jughead hums into the kiss, smiling against Archie’s lips, his fingers curling around Archie’s shirt sleeves.

“What’s this for?” He mumbles, eyes bright with mirth when Archie pulls away, pressing their foreheads together. “Hmm?”

Archie grins, bumping their noses together and swaying to some melody in his head.

“Absolutely nothing.”

Jughead laughs, loud and high, and Archie kisses him again.

**it’s so excruciating to see you low**

**just wanna lift you up and not let you go**

**this ultraviolet morning light below**

**tells me this love is worth the fight**

**_mine_ **

_ let this love story be only ours _

_ in some other life, I’m sure it’s messy _

_ full of girls and sex and lonely nights _

_ me crying, you not there to hold me _

_ you dying, me not there to save you _

_ I wonder if in that other life _

_ we find each other anyway _

_ or if we hide behind jackets _

_ behind harsh words and biting kisses _

_ the ruse of best friends _

_ “it didn’t mean anything” _

_ “I love her” _

_ “just forget it, okay?” _

_ I know, whatever the universe, _

_ I’ll always look at you the same _

_ that love in my eyes _

_ yours reflected in blue irises _

_ your heart _

_ mine _

_ you bring me to life _

_ wrap me in your warmth until I’m not cold anymore _

_ you make me smile, make me laugh _

_ that night you dragged me behind Pop’s, _

_ carved our initials into the back door _

_ let me kiss your mouth until our lips were red _

_ you were humming this song, _

_ something you’d found on youtube _

_ “what finding your soulmate feels like,” you said _

_ and it made you think of me _

_ it still does _

_ your heart _

_ mine _

_ your lips your hands your eyes _

_ your words your dreams your fears _

_ your body your mind your soul _

_ your heart _

_ mine _

_ all of you, _

_ all mine. _

**_JJ, 20XX._ **

**I lived like an island, punished you in silence**

**went off like sirens, just crying**

**why’d I have to break what I love so much**

**it’s on your face, don’t walk away, I need to say**

“Why did we agree to this again?”

Jughead shrugs, bolding the words on the mirror by tracing the lipstick over them again.

“We’re not allowed to talk, y’know. That’s the dare,” he says, stepping back to admire his handiwork. “Vee and Betts are probably listening to us right now.”

Some giggles from the other side of the door confirm his suspicions. Archie rolls his eyes, coming up behind Jughead and wrapping his arms around his waist, hooking his chin over his shoulder.

“They’re probably making out against the wall,” the redhead says, wrinkling his nose. Their answer is a bang on the door.

Jughead smirks.

“I think they resent that.”

Archie snorts, pressing his mouth to Jughead’s shoulder.

“‘S true though,” he mumbles. Jughead nods, dropping the lipstick to the floor with a clatter as he lifts his arms and bends them behind him, lacing his fingers together and cradling Archie’s head.

“Yeah, guess so.”

Silent, they stare at their reflection in the mirror, marred by words written in cherry red lipstick.

_ I don’t say a word _

_ but still you take my breath and steal the things I know _

_ there you go, saving me from out of the cold _

_ fire on fire would normally kill us _

_ with this much desire, together we’re winners _

_ they say that we’re out of control and some say we’re sinners _

_ but don’t let them ruin our beautiful rhythms _

_ cause when you unfold me, and tell me you love me, and look in my eyes _

_ you are perfection, my only direction _

_ it’s fire on fire _

“You get that from somewhere?” Archie asks, quiet, and Jughead shrugs.

“Love is friendship that’s caught fire,” he murmurs. “Ann Landers.”

Archie hums, ducking his head and pressing his forehead into Jughead’s neck.

Jughead closes his eyes.

“You’re my best friend, Superman,” he whispers, not expecting Archie to hear. “Always been my best friend.”

He sways on his feet in Archie’s arms, exhausted suddenly. Archie holds him steady.

“Burning,” Jughead breathes, voice barely audible now. “You burn me inside out.”

“Sorry,” Archie mumbles. Jughead shakes his head.

“Don’t be,” he whispers. “I like it.”

**hey, it’s all me, in my head**

**I’m the one who burned us down**

**but it’s not what I meant**

**I’m sorry that I hurt you**

“We should probably head home soon, y’know,” Jughead murmurs, twisting a string of Archie’s hair in his fingers. Archie doesn’t move from where his head is buried in the crook of Jughead’s neck, arms wrapped around his boyfriend’s waist as their legs dangle over the side of the counter, knees knocking against the stools.

“Don’t want to.”

In the corner, the jukebox sings softly. One of Jughead’s favorite songs, Archie thinks. Archie loves it too, but he won’t tell Jughead that.

_ I’d like to hang out with you for my whole life. _

“Speaking of forevers,” Archie grunts, pulling away and sitting up, “how do you feel about spending one with me?”

Jughead stiffens - not freezing, but tensing, his fingers curling tighter around Archie’s hand.

“What do you mean?”

Archie looks down at their clasped hands.

“I mean,” he says, lifting Jughead’s hand to his lips to kiss his knuckles, “marry me.”

He glances up at Jughead through his eyelashes, smiling when he sees Jughead’s lips are parted in shock, eyes wide in surprise. Kissing Jughead’s knuckles again, his smile stretches to a grin.

“Marry me,” he says again, softer this time. “Spend your life with me. Spend forever with me. All your time, all your smiles, all your love, I want it. I want the bad days and the good days and the stormy nights and the clear ones. I want your stories and your anxiety and your never-ever-sex rules and your dysphoria and your bitten-down nails. I want you, Jughead, all of you, forever and always.”

Jughead’s face flushes, scarlet red seeping down his neck and through his collarbones. There’s a twinkle in his eyes now, one Archie finds and holds on to, memorizing the way it makes Jughead’s irises shine as he smiles.

“I want you too,” he whispers. “Forever and always and all that crap.”

Archie laughs, loud and bright, and Jughead untangles their fingers, taking Archie’s face in his hands and pulling him into a kiss, smiling into his mouth. Archie kisses him back eagerly, happily, pressing forward until Jughead’s lying on his back on the counter, Archie looming over him as they trade soft little kisses, Jughead’s arms around Archie’s neck and his legs around his waist.

“We’re getting married,” he mumbles deliriously, giggling maniacally. “Oh my god, Archie, we’re getting  _ married _ .”

Archie grins, eyes half-lidded as he leans in to kiss Jughead again.

“Yeah, Juggie. We’re getting married.”

Jughead laughs, happy and deafening, the melodic sound ringing in Archie’s ears as Jughead pulls back, pressing kisses all over Archie’s face, at least one on every single freckle. Archie smiles.

He gets to hear that laugh everyday for the rest of his life.

**I don’t wanna do, I don’t wanna do this to you**

**I don’t wanna lose, I don’t wanna lose this with you**

**I need to say, hey, it’s all me, just don’t go**

**meet me in the afterglow**

It’s been a long time since Jughead has felt nervous in the same room as Archie. Years, almost, if he thinks back on it.

Under the table, Archie’s hand shakes in his.

“Dad, we’re, uh -”

“We’re engaged.”

It’s deadpan enough that for a moment Jughead worries Fred will think he’s not happy about it, that  _ Archie _ will think that, but then Fred’s smiling dazzlingly and reaching across the table to squeeze Jughead’s wrist, then Archie’s. His voice is soft, gently delighted, as if he has to be subtle in his joy, in his pride.

“Congratulations, boys.”

Leaning back into the booth, he reaches down and pulls some papers out of his pocket, sliding them across the table to Jughead, who untangles his fingers from Archie’s with a squeeze to pick them up, Archie’s arm immediately closing around his waist.

“Guess we won’t be needing these, then?” Fred says, quiet, eyes twinkling as Jughead unfolds the papers, eyes going wide as they skim over the words.

_ Formal request by Fred Andrews to legally adopt Forsynthe Pendleton Jones III. _

Jughead’s eyes sting with tears.

“Really?” He gasps, voice wavering and breaking. Fred nods, smile kind.

“If you want,” he says faintly. “I know it would complicate things for you and Archie, in legal terms of course, when it comes to getting married. But I’ve had these papers for a year or two, so I just thought I’d ask.”

Jughead’s up from his seat in an instant, hands shaking violently as the papers flutter away from him. Fred’s halfway out of his seat, readying to chase him out the door with reassuring words and a gentle touch when Jughead crashes into him, wrapping his arms around Fred’s waist and burying his face in his shoulder as Archie watches, smiling, from the booth.

“Yeah,” he chokes out, feeling his body tremble against Fred’s stiff one. “Yeah, I want.”

Voice dropping, he rasps, “Of course I want, Dad.”

Fred’s breath hitches. In less than a second he’s hugging Jughead back, holding him to him like he can protect him from everything that way. It reminds Jughead of how Archie holds him, though not as warm. Not with the accompanying butterflies. But there’s something in Fred’s hug that’s better, somehow, in a different way - something Jughead guesses he must’ve been missing before, but can’t quite put his finger on.

**tell me that you’re still mine**

**tell me that we’ll be just fine**

**even when I lose my mind**

**I need to say**

It’s Veronica and Betty they tell next, inviting them to Pop’s after hours for a picnic behind the counter, having a picnic on the cool red and white tiles. As soon as the girls are through the door, Veronica’s in Jughead’s arms, holding him close and whispering in his ear, the two of them smiling at inside jokes that Betty and Archie will never get.

Settling on the floor, surrounded by pizza and burgers and fries and milkshakes (chocolate for Veronica, vanilla for Archie, strawberry for Betty, and cookies and cream for Jughead, of course), Archie takes Jughead’s hand, smiling when Jughead shivers at the touch of cool metal on his skin.

Opening his mouth, the thought flits across Archie’s mind that Jughead will probably write a poem about this later.

“This is my forever,” he blurts, meaning to say that he proposed, or that they’re engaged, but his tongue acts of its own accord and keeps on going even as the laughter fades to nothing and Jughead’s pale skin turns pretty pink, then crimson. “This is my husband - well, not yet, but soon.”

Jughead’s eyes are shining as they lay on Archie, warmth spreading through the redhead’s chest like hot chocolate after shovelling snow. Veronica’s knuckles are white as she clutches Jughead’s wrist, Betty’s eyes wide and glistening.

“We’re getting married,” Archie murmurs, a grin splitting across his face, those words spinning the world back into motion as Veronica screeches and tackles Jughead in a hug, Betty soon following to do the same to Archie, all of them enveloped in laughter and warmth.

“I get to be your Maid of Honor, right, Jug?” Veronica asks, pulling back from Jughead to point an accusatory finger at him. “I swear to god, Jughead, if the spot isn’t already taken by your  _ lovely _ sister -”

“Yes, Vee,” Jughead laughs breathlessly, pushing himself up and forcing Veronica back on her knees, grasping at her wrists. “Yeah, Vee, you’re my Maid of Honor. Jelly’s the flowergirl.”

Veronica shrieks in excitement, tackling Jughead once again and pressing herself as close as she can to him, giggling as he squeezes her tight enough to take her breath away and digs his fingers into her sides. Archie and Betty watch the scene with happy smiles, Betty leaning into Archie’s side.

“You gonna ask me now, Archie?” Betty asks softly, head on Archie’s shoulder, and Archie shrugs, unable to take his eyes off his beautiful fiance and their best friend.

“Didn’t think I had to,” he answers, and Betty smiles against his shoulder, nodding.

“You didn’t,” she whispers, Veronica and Jughead’s laughs fading into affectionate mumbles, “but I thought I would.”

Archie wraps an arm around her, pulling her closer, and gradually, talk of love mellows out into smiles of friendship.

**tell me that it’s not my fault**

**tell me that I’m all you want**

**even when I break your heart**

**I need to say**

Jughead can’t imagine having a better sister than Jellybean. Even Veronica, who’s practically his blood at this point, couldn’t claim more of Jughead’s love than his little menace.

When Jughead had first started thinking of himself as a boy, back in the old days when they lived with FP and Gladys, Jellybean had been the one to steal Jughead’s laptop and find the word “trans”. She’d dragged him to the mall after school, Archie tagging along (because Jughead and Archie never went anywhere without each other, even back then), and used Gladys’ credit card (stolen from her purse at one-seventeen a.m.) to buy Jughead all the masculine clothing he wanted. (Including a purple sweatshirt with a rainbow butterfly on it and black, grey and white stripes on the sleeves, which Jughead still has despite having outgrown it years ago.) She’d been the one that painted Jughead’s nails for the first time, and drawn butterflies on his face in marker, telling him he was beautiful regardless of what anyone else said.

Jellybean had been the one that Jughead first told about being asexual, psyching him up for confessing to Archie. She’d been the one who helped Jughead come to terms with his feelings for his best friend in the first place, and the one who’d pushed him to realize that Archie wasn’t leaving - not because of the trans thing, the queer thing, the ace thing or any other thing.

In the end, Jellybean has been nothing less than the best sister she could possibly be, but more importantly,  _ Jughead’s _ .

Which is why, after officially becoming a part of the Andrews family (unofficially had been over fifteen years ago), Jughead only needs to ask once for what he wants before Fred’s piling him, Archie and Jellybean in the car for a trip down to city hall.

As they’re waiting for the papers to be filed, Jughead sits with Jellybean in a booth at Pop’s, Archie having run off to the bathroom a little while ago and Fred talking quietly with some social worker on the phone. Her legs swing up and down opposite of each other, banging against the booth in a calming beat as she holds Jughead’s hand, butterfly-shaped mood rings decorating her fingers and poking into his palm.

Jughead swears, he’ll take her back to that garden. If it’s the last thing he does, he’ll make his sister smile again.

“Who’s adopting me?” Jellybean asks, because she’s smart enough to know what all the glances in the mirror meant on the ride there and back, the hesitant way Archie had held Jughead’s hand over her lap in the backseat.

Jughead’s eyes flick down to her, blinking each time her rainboots hit the chair legs with a thump.

“I am,” he says, soft enough so no one else can hear, and she doesn’t look at him. But he knows her well, well enough to see how her lips twitch up at the corners.

“Thanks, Juggie,” she says nonchalantly, almost like it doesn’t matter. “Thanks a lot.”

But it does matter. And Jellybean knows that, Jughead knows she does, because she squeezes his hand. Only once, lightly and gently, but she’s smiling now, eyes fixated on his black nails next to her yellow ones, and that’s all Jughead really wanted anyway.

**hey, it’s all me, in my head**

**I’m the one who burned us down**

**but it’s not what I meant**

**sorry that I hurt you**

**_happiest_ **

_ the day I married you, _

_ it was cold outside. _

_ it was rainy and the day seemed long, _

_ stretched out ahead of us like an endless road _

_ in the middle of nowhere _

_ but I knew I’d be fine, better than fine _

_ because you’d be there _

_ walking down that road with me. _

_ the day I married you, _

_ we both wore black, silk shining under fluorescent lights _

_ I remember dancing and singing with you _

_ back when I thought you were perfect _

_ flowers braided into your hair _

_ now I know you’re far from perfect, _

_ red roses in our lapels, _

_ but I know you’re perfect for me. _

_ the day I married you, _

_ your dad was crying and mine was sitting in the back row _

_ I wonder if he’s proud of me, or if he felt like he loved me _

_ and though it shouldn’t matter I think it always will _

_ my little sister throwing a rainbow array of petals in the air _

_ smiling at me like I was hope _

_ like my happiness could be hers one day _

_ so tomorrow, I’m going to try to be your happiness _

_ because I know you’ll be mine. _

_ the day I married you, _

_ the booths we’d claimed so many times before suddenly seemed shareable _

_ family and friends piling into them _

_ hugging your warmth to them and telling me you are a lucky lucky man _

_ but looking at you grin and laugh, _

_ entertaining the people we’d see soon enough again anyways _

_ like they were long lost, desperate for affection _

_ affection you gave _

_ I knew I am the lucky one. _

_ the day I married you, _

_ was like any other _

_ no different from yesterday or tomorrow _

_ because my love for you is constant _

_ a pull on my heart towards yours _

_ but that day was when I promised _

_ to always follow it _

_ right back to you. _

**_JJA, 20XX._ **

**I don’t wanna do, I don’t wanna do this to you**

**I don’t wanna lose, I don’t wanna lose this with you**

**I need to say, hey, it’s all me, just don’t go**

**meet me in the afterglow**

It’s quiet, after. It’s supposed to be loud, Jughead’s pretty sure, your wedding night, but theirs isn’t. It’s silent with occasional blips, like the leather of the booth squeaking as he or Archie shifts, lying on their backs with their legs hanging off the edge by the knees, hands tangled together under the table and eyes watching the dirt on the ceiling and pretending it can be made into constellations.

Pop’s gone home for the night, leaving the key on the counter for Jughead to lock up with. Jellybean and Fred are slumped together in another booth in the back corner of the diner, far away from Jughead and Archie and snoring softly.

Newlyweds aren’t supposed to be quiet with each other, Jughead thinks. They aren’t supposed to take their eyes off one another. They aren’t supposed to only touch hands and not everywhere else on their wedding night.

But then, Jughead and Archie aren’t normal newlyweds. They’re barely eighteen, heading off to college come the fall. Jughead’s got a flat chest he wasn’t born with and no libido, and Archie’s got pink scars on his wrists and a bad case of touch starvation. They’re part of a broken, patched together little family that’s only half blood on either side.

They aren’t normal.

Except for one thing.

“I love you,” Jughead murmurs, because there’s something poetically dangerous about shattering silence. “I know I say it a lot, but I always mean it.”

Archie doesn’t look at him, doesn’t move. His voice is a rasp when he answers, soft enough to be a whisper.

“Well, that’s what marriage is, right? A promise to always mean it.”

Jughead shrugs, thinking about sitting up and then deciding against it.

“I guess so.”

Just a bit more quiet, just enough for the voices in his head to speak up yet again -

“Hey, princess?”

Jughead turns his head then, meeting Archie’s beautiful hazel eyes, and whispers, “What, Superman?”

“Thanks for marrying me.”

Jughead closes his eyes, feeling a smile flit across his face.

“Thanks for wanting to,” he mumbles, and it crosses his mind then that he’s gone through a lot of shit in his life, but he thinks he can call himself lucky and believe it.


	5. New York

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> title and lyrics from "Lover" by Taylor Swift
> 
> songs mentioned/this chapter was inspired by:  
> Drops of Jupiter (Train)  
> High School Sweethearts (Melanie Martinez)  
> Let Me (Matthew Mole)  
> Dear Happy (dodie ft. Thomas Sanders)  
> Team (Noah Cyrus, MAX)  
> Snowman (Sia)  
> Falling Like The Stars (James Arthur)  
> How Long Will I Love You (Ellie Goulding)

_ and in a million years _

_ when the world is gone _

_ if nothing else is left _

_ even then _

_ I’ll be happy _

_ because in the universe’s billions of years of existence _

_ I was lucky enough to live in the same century as you. _

_ \- MM _

**we could leave the christmas lights up til january**

**this is our place, we make the rules**

**and there’s a dazzling haze, a mysterious way about you, dear**

**have I known you twenty seconds or twenty years**

New York is the busiest place Jughead’s ever seen.

There are people everywhere, cold air nipping at their cheeks and making everyone huddle just a little bit further into themselves. The cars are loud, horns honking and tires squealing and engines grumbling as pedestrians’ heels click and thump against the pavement. Steam rises up from the sewer grates and the windows are rife with colorful displays and neon signs advertising foods from all-around-the-world cultures.

Jughead loves it.

“Yo, Jug!”

His head turns at the sound of his name, Archie bounding over from the kitchen to where Jughead stands at the window, weaving his way through piles of boxes to reach his husband and pressing up against Jughead from behind, sliding his hands into Jughead’s front pockets. He presses a kiss to Jughead’s shoulder, smiling against the cotton of his white t-shirt.

“People watching?”

Jughead laughs, the sound soft and quiet, leaning back into the redhead. He loves when Archie will hold him like this, loves that Archie holds him at all. Loves New York, loves that it’s home, loves that it’s theirs.

“Yeah. The woman by the street light’s a psychic, I think. Y’know, when she’s not studying law or making out with strangers behind bars.”

Archie giggles, pulling Jughead closer.

“She’s probably got a golden retriever,” he says, voice hushed. “A studio apartment with Van Gogh hanging on the walls and more forks than spoons, if that makes sense?”

Jughead chuckles, melting against Archie completely and turning his head to press his forehead into Archie’s neck, reveling in how the touch of his cold skin makes Archie shiver.

“Nah,” he whispers. “But don’t worry, I like it.”

Archie laughs, craning his neck to kiss Jughead’s lips despite the awkward angle. Jughead hums into it, thinking of how far they’ve come from drive-ins and diners.

“You happy?” He asks, unafraid of the answer, and Archie nods and shrugs at the same time, pulling away from Jughead, who wrinkles his nose and bends over, reaching down into the nearest box to shuffle through it.

Archie never answers out loud, but Jughead doesn’t need him to.

After all, he’s always had a bad habit of asking questions he already knows the answer to.

**can I go where you go**

**can we always be this close forever and ever**

**and take me out, and take me home**

**you’re my, my, my, my lover**

**_young_ **

_ let’s pretend we’re young, just for a day _

_ I know you’ll say we are, that we’ll stay that way _

_ forever _

_ but twenty-something isn’t young anymore _

_ not compared to what we were _

_ back then _

_ when I knew we’d make it _

_ that night you came running for me, through the rain _

_ kissed me under flashing lighting and crackling thunder _

_ stitched your name into my skin in permanent ink _

_ a little while after I started calling you my husband, _

_ a few months before we were married _

_ freckles on your arms now woven into constellations _

_ my moles connected the same _

_ Archie on my chest now _

_ Jughead on your wrists _

_ reminding us who we have to live for _

_ what we have to live for, the little things we have to live for _

_ like cold tea in the mornings and popcorn in the afternoon _

_ and your lips against the juncture of my neck and shoulder _

_ whispering, “I love you,” into my skin _

_ breathing in my dust _

_ we danced to “Drops of Jupiter” in our room the other day _

_ and I think you’ve already forgotten it _

_ but there was a pigeon on our balcony picking at our leftover breakfast _

_ and your guitar was tossed in our bundled up sheets _

_ and your fingers were cold on my hips _

_ and I loved you, I loved you, I loved you _

_ like now, but less than tomorrow _

_ and more than yesterday _

_ my feelings for you _

_ are the only emotions of mine that never fluctuate _

_ bend or falter _

_ waver or weaken _

_ your tongue slips through my lips _

_ touches the top of my mouth as you smile _

_ and I love you, I love you, I love you _

_ I love you back a million times over. _

**_JJA, 20XX._ **

**we could let our friends crash in the living room**

**this is our place, we make the call**

**I’m highly suspicious that everyone who sees you wants you**

**I’ve loved you three summers now, honey, but I want em all**

“So I was thinking…”

Jughead doesn’t move, head pressed into the crook of Archie’s neck and pointer finger tracing hearts on Archie’s chest.

“Yeah?” He whispers, mind caught on how pretty Archie looks in golden morning sunlight, how warm the sheets are tangled around their bodies. Archie’s hand comes up to capture his, stilling his fingers and kissing his knuckles, and as he lifts his arm Jughead catches a glimpse of the faint scars on Archie’s wrists and Jughead’s name scrawled over them.

“We’re lucky,” Archie murmurs, and Jughead hums. It doesn’t feel like much of an answer, but he knows Archie will know what he means. And in the end, that’s all that matters.

He looks down at their entwined fingers then and the words scribbled around and over their knuckles in permanent ink now, lyrics like black rings covering their skin.

_ can we just be honest? _

_ these are the requirements _

_ if you think you can be my one and only true love _

_ you must promise to love me _

_ and damnit, if you fuck me over _

_ I will rip your fucking face apart _

“I like our new tattoos,” he whispers, deciding it’s something he needs to voice aloud, and Archie chuckles, kissing Jughead’s knuckles again.

“Yeah,” he whispers. “A little violent, but me too.”

Jughead snorts, closing his eyes.

“Of course it is,” he mumbles. “I wrote those lyrics.”

Archie’s lips press against his forehead, fingers tightening around Jughead’s own.

“And I love you for it,” he murmurs, and Jughead feels the corners of his lips quirk up in a smile.

“And I love you back,” he whispers, shifting his head just enough to kiss Archie’s shoulder. “A lot, a lot, a lot.”

Archie hums, breathing out through his nose, the air ruffling Jughead’s hair and making him shiver as Archie answers in kind.

“Very much, very much, very much.”

**can I go where you go**

**can we always be this close forever and ever**

**and take me out, and take me home forever and ever**

**you’re my, my, my, my lover**

It’s winter when Jellybean moves in across the hall. She’s sixteen-something now, having dropped out of school to come here as soon as she could. They all act like it’s because of her rebelliousness, running away from Riverdale’s memories to pursue rock music or fashion or whatever passing fancy in New York, but they all know better. Jellybean Jones never runs away from anything.

Rather, as she steps out of the taxi outside their apartment building, she runs  _ to _ Jughead. Crashes into his arms and laughs as he spins her around, burying his face in her shoulder. Archie watches with a smile, holding the door open for when they’re ready to come inside.

Jellybean’s beaming like the sun, with Jughead’s laugh echoing through the flurry of snowflakes from beside her. A hand in hers, he pulls her towards the building, taking Archie’s hand too as he passes by him through the doorway.

Boxes scatter Jellybean’s frayed carpet floor, half open with glimpses of picture frames visible from behind the flaps. Archie sifts through them as Jughead twirls Jellybean in the kitchen, kissing her cheek as she throws her head back in laughter. The smell of pancakes wafts through the air, folk music blasting through the speakers as sunlight spills into the living room, awashing everything in gold.

Jughead’s still laughing as he collapses on the couch next to Archie, soon sitting up and curling into the redhead, looping an arm through Archie’s and threading their fingers together. Archie turns his head and Jughead pecks his lips with a hum, grinning into Archie’s mouth.

“My always, forever, the light in the dark,” Archie sings softly along to the stereo. “And I found it, the treasure, your beautiful heart.”

Jughead pulls back with a smile, lips shiny and eyes twinkling. Archie leans forward and rests his head against his husband’s, grinning teasingly.

“And with every piece of mine,” he murmurs. “I love you more than life.”

Jughead hums, kissing Archie’s lips one last time before resting his head on Archie’s shoulder, letting Archie press his lips to the top of his beanie and smiling (and wincing) when Jellybean belts out a high note that clashes with the song now playing on the radio.

“I love you back,” Jughead whispers, closing his eyes. Archie follows suit, humming.

They lapse into comfortable silence until Jellybean barges in with messy plates of pancakes on her arms, dumping them on the coffee table and grasping Archie’s hand, pulling him up into an awkward jig-like waltz, Jughead grinning from the couch and laughing as Archie blushes, smiling.

**ladies and gentlemen, will you please stand**

**with every guitar string scar on my hand**

**I take this magnetic force of a man to be my lover**

**_good days_ **

_ you read my manuscript while I strummed on your guitar next to you, _

_ hummed your lyrics under my breath _

_ you reached over at some point and _

_ weaved your fingers through mine _

_ it’s hard to turn pages in a paperback _

_ or finger guitar strings on-key _

_ with one hand _

_ but we managed. _

_ we needed chocolate milk and eggs and bacon and Oreos and other less important things, _

_ so we walked down to the grocery store on the corner of Fifth, _

_ your hand on my hip and my hands in my pockets _

_ I squished myself into the cart and grabbed things that we needed, wanted, from the shelves as we passed by, _

_ you kissing my head every once in awhile _

_ when you could bend over enough to reach me _

_ and your phone rang when your dad called and I sung along to your ringtone, _

_ “Dear Happy,” soft and quiet, raspy and off-key _

_ “this isn’t the end, I’m your lifelong friend,” I whispered, hoarse _

_ “sure, it’s been awhile, but I’ll be here when you smile,” you joined in _

_ barely a murmur, the last few words mumbled against my lips, _

_ into my mouth, through my smile _

_ I love you _

_ loved you then _

_ but didn’t need to tell you _

_ I knew you knew, you know now _

_ Jellybean caught us in a blanket fort that night, windows closed and curtains shut, _

_ the television illuminating our faces in shades of baby pink and blue _

_ kids’ cartoons flashing fast in front of us _

_ wrapped in blankets and in each other’s arms _

_ she brought us those Oreos and that chocolate milk we’d bought earlier, _

_ pouring a glass for herself, licking her fingers free of crumbs after each bite, _

_ and I kissed you, feeling warm all over, _

_ tingly like my entire body was asleep _

_ if this was a dream, _

_ it’s a damn good one. _

**_JJA, 20XX._ **

**my heart’s been borrowed and yours has been blue**

**all’s well that ends well to end up with you**

**swear to be overdramatic and true to my lover**

“It’s on the radio,” Archie gasps as he practically throws himself through the door. Slamming it behind him, he crashes into Jughead, who had emerged from the kitchen at the sound of Archie’s voice. Archie’s flushed and grinning, and at the sight of Jughead in only one of Archie’s t-shirts and a pair of boxers becomes even more so, cupping Jughead’s face in his hands and pulling him into a kiss, which Jughead hums into confusedly.

“What’s on the radio -”

“My song,” Archie breathes, capturing Jughead’s lips one last time before hugging him close, hooking his chin over his husband’s shoulder. “Our song, it’s on the radio. They’re playing our song on the radio, Juggie.”

As the realization dawns on him, Jughead starts laughing, cheeks pinkening in joy as he jumps into Archie’s arms, throwing his arms around Archie’s neck and his legs around Archie’s waist as the redhead spins him around wildly.

“Yes!” He shouts excitedly, squeezing. “Yes, Archie! I can’t believe it, oh my god -”

He pulls back suddenly, taking Archie’s face in his hands and kissing him once again.

“You’re amazing,” he mumbles. “God, you’re so amazing. I’m so proud of you.”

Archie beams, burying his face in Jughead’s shoulder and holding Jughead closer, if that’s even possible. Jughead, in turn, presses his forehead against Archie’s neck, closing his eyes.

“Whenever you’re losing, I’ll celebrate ya,” Archie sings softly in his husband’s ear. “Appreciate ya. I’ll get you up on your feet.”

Jughead smiles, fingers clutching Archie’s coat lapels tighter as he presses a kiss to husband’s neck.

“Whenever you’re winning,” he sings back, voice raspy and off-key. “I’ll give you strength, boy. And I’ll cheer your name, boy.”

Archie joins in for the last line, voice so quiet it’s barely audible.

“Cause I’ll always be on your team.”

Jughead slithers his arm around Archie’s neck yet again, carding his fingers through the redhead’s hair. Archie closes his eyes, hugging Jughead tighter, and gently spins them in circles, reveling in the feeling of his husband in his arms and the sound of their voices whispering the words of their love, aloud and out of tune.

**and you’ll save all your dirtiest jokes for me**

**and at every table, I’ll save you a seat, lover**

Veronica doesn’t make it through the door before Jughead’s arms are around her, his face buried in her shoulder as she cards her hands through his hair, holding him close. As Betty folds herself into his side, Archie smiles at the sight of his husband curled around the girl he considers a second sister, whispering in her ear and laughing.

On Veronica’s left hand, splayed open on Jughead’s back, is a gold ring with a red stone lodged in the center, sparkling in the candlelight.

“Finally asked her, did you?” Archie whispers in Betty’s ear, and she blushes, nodding with a smile. “When?”

“On the plane ride here,” she murmurs back as Jellybean busts in from next door and demands a hug from Veronica immediately. “I was gonna do it here, with one of those obnoxious box-after-box-after-box gifts, but she got in a fight with the flight attendant about champagne and she was so pretty and the question just kinda slipped out.”

Betty sighs. “Turns out she found the ring a year ago, the day after I bought it. So much for a surprise.”

Jughead snorts, catching the tail end of the sentence as he swoops in and kisses Betty on the cheek, whispering an amused congratulations before Veronica pulls him by the hand into the living room. Archie shares a look with Betty and shrugs, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and following.

Fred looks up as they come into the room, pulling back from hugging Veronica to kiss Jughead’s forehead and ruffle his hair, eyes twinkling. He pulls Betty into a hug and then Jellybean, tugging Archie into his arms last as the other four marvel at the snow falling outside and the lights on the Christmas tree.

“It’s late, y’know,” Fred whispers in Archie’s ear. “I’m thinking about getting dinner started. You wanna join?”

Archie hums, eyes caught on Jughead as the brunette twirls Veronica in a clumsy waltz, Jellybean collapsed on her back on the couch, her head in Betty’s lap while the blonde braids her hair, humming along to everything Jellybean says.

“Nah,” he murmurs. “I think I’ll stick around here a little bit, if you don’t mind, Dad.”

Fred smiles, clapping Archie’s shoulder.

“Not at all, Arch.”

With that, he leaves, and Jughead lets Veronica slump onto the couch next to Betty, turning and tripping over his own two feet right into Archie’s open arms.

He smiles lovedrunkenly up at his husband, eyes shining. Archie smiles back.

“Havin’ fun?” He whispers, and Jughead hums, craning his neck to touch his nose to Archie’s.

“Mmm,” he says, eyes flicking upwards. “Mistletoe.”

Archie rolls his eyes, leaning in and capturing Jughead’s lips with his, smile widening as he feels Jughead’s mouth curl into a grin against his own.

“Merry Christmas,” Jughead mumbles, not breaking the kiss. “Happy Hanukkah.”

The redhead huffs out a laugh into his husband’s mouth, pulling him closer and ignoring Veronica’s fake gagging and Betty’s cooing alongside Jellybean’s sarcastic wisecracks in the background, Fred coming back into the room right at that moment, leaning against the doorway with a smile and his arms crossed over his chest.

Archie feels like he’s in one of those Christmas movie endings. The ones where the camera pans out through a window as snow falls down and the family dances goofily with each other inside.

He can’t say he minds too much. He might even say he likes it.

**can I go where you go**

**can we always be this close forever and ever**

**and take me out, and take me home forever and ever**

Archie strokes Jughead’s wedding ring with his thumb, smiling shakily as he watches his husband reach up to the shelf and take the book down with his name on it. Thumbing the hard cover, ruffling the pages, skimming the inside cover. Taking in his creation as if he doesn’t already know every word by heart, as if he needs to learn them all again though an entirely new lense.

“I wrote this,” Jughead whispers, Archie humming along to the song playing through the speakers. “I wrote this, poured my life into this, and it’s on a bookshelf in the  _ Barnes & Noble _ five minutes from our apartment.”

His voice is bright with wonder, eyes shining with pride, and Archie chooses this moment to press closer, squeezing Jughead’s hand and kissing his beanie.

“I’m so proud of you,” he whispers, warm breath turning Jughead’s ear pink. “My author.”

Jughead turns his head to look at him then, a smile slowing stretching across his face into a grin. Archie kisses him as the first laugh erupts from Jughead’s mouth, loud and full of mirth, full of happiness.

“I’m an author,” Jughead murmurs into Archie’s mouth, and then his coat as Archie pulls him into a hug. “I’m an author, Archie, I’m - I got published.”

Archie smiles into Jughead’s collarbone, steadying his husband with an arm around his waist, feeling how Jughead shakes against him, trembling with disbelief.

“I’m an author,” Jughead whispers one more time, and Archie pulls back to kiss him again, tasting the salt of Jughead’s tears on his lips.

“Yes, princess,” he murmurs. “Yes, you are.”

Jughead laughs, the sound wet and hysterical, and Archie kisses him harder, pulls him closer, relishing in the feeling of Jughead’s fingers curling around the fabric of Archie’s coat, holding on tight.

**you’re my, my, my, my**

**you’re my, my, my, my**

The last thing Archie expects at three a.m. on a Monday is Veronica Lodge crashing into their apartment, barging into their bedroom and collapsing on top of a cursing Jughead, but that’s what he gets. Betty follows, apologetic and quiet, as Veronica buries her face in Jughead’s chest and forces him to hold her, golden light from the hallway pouring into the dark bedroom and causing all their wedding rings to glint sharply.

“I hate you,” Jughead grumbles into Veronica’s hair, still half-asleep as Archie gives up on closing his own eyes and gets up, shrugging his bathrobe over his shoulders before dragging Betty into a hug, kissing her cheek. Veronica snorts, jiggling her legs until her heels fall off, each making a quiet  _ thump _ as it hits the ground.

“Took  _ hours _ to drive here,” Veronica mumbles, eyes shut. The mattress is still in the truck downstairs. We’re sleeping here tonight. Please and thank you.”

Jughead groans, turning on his side and forcing Veronica off of him. She huffs, latching onto his back and pressing herself close as Archie grabs his pillow and a spare blanket, already preparing a makeshift bed on the floor as Betty helps, smiling sympathetically.

“Go away, Vee,” Jughead mutters, words slurring with sleep. “Get off.”

Veronica shakes her head, squeezing him and kissing his back. Archie, at this point, decides the bed just isn’t worth this argument and climbs back in next to Jughead, letting Betty squeeze herself in next to him and drawing her to his chest.

“Live here now,” Veronica mumbles. “Right next to you. Missed my brother.”

Jughead huffs, but Archie doesn’t miss the smile threatening to stretch wider. Taking Jughead’s hand, he squeezes, and closes his eyes as Betty starts to snore, sniffling quietly in her sleep.

“Missed you too, Vee,” Jughead murmurs, lacing his fingers through hers over his stomach. “Now sleep.”

And as he’s drifting off, Archie hears, “And breaking and entering is illegal, by the way.”

He smiles.

**darling, you’re my, my, my, my lover**

**_the reality of you and me_ **

_ the reality of you and me _

_ is that I am cold where you are warm _

_ sharp where you are curved _

_ blank where you are colorful _

_ but still we fit together like those puzzlepieces Jellybean lost under the couch two weeks ago _

_ the reality of you and me _

_ is that pennies and gold are worth all the same to me _

_ with you around, _

_ hanging off my arm when you’re drunk _

_ pressing your mouth against my neck in rough kisses _

_ but when I pull away, you don’t follow _

_ knowing better, learning my lines _

_ tracing them into your palms, saying sorry _

_ the reality of you and me _

_ is that family equals home equals love and you _

_ encompass all three, _

_ defining cliches as everyday details, slipping my mind _

_ blowing me away _

_ the reality of you and me _

_ is that I am in love with every thing about you I know _

_ and will fall for every new thing I learn _

_ thinking of you as your own universe, me an astronaut _

_ caught in your orbit and exploring your planets, _

_ touching your stars, visiting your moons _

_ gravity pulling me closer _

_ the reality of you and me _

_ is that not a day goes by that something doesn’t happen _

_ to completely alter my world, our world _

_ like Veronica’s dresses not fitting over her baby bump _

_ like Betty’s detective badge being left on the table next to your keys when she forgets everything but her coffee _

_ like Fred, Dad’s hairs graying against wrinkled skin and a furrowed brow, pretending not to be tired for us _

_ pretending we can have all of this forever, _

_ for us _

_ the reality of you and me _

_ is that beauty can be found in strange places when you’re next to me _

_ your love tuned perfectly for me over time, _

_ my love edited perfectly for you over time, _

_ your hand in mine as you twirl me across a library carpet to the sound of your voice from a record player _

_ surrounded by bookshelves filled to the brim with my work, my mind, my heart and soul _

_ abandoned makeshift sandwiches on the table, your favorites _

_ moments paused in time, moments like this one _

_ written into the fabric of our comforter in stained t-shirts and uneven stitches _

_ and on our arms in permanent ink, _

_ your lyrics decorating my skin the same way my quotes decorate yours _

_ forever proof that we existed _

_ we exist _

_ the reality of you and me _

_ is that we are nobodies in a world of everybodies _

_ finding our way amongst paths not meant for us to take _

_ choosing whichever the other points to _

_ fixing our feet to step in the footprints of those before us, _

_ then kicking off our shoes to scuff our heels against the grass, dig our toes into the sand _

_ carve our own path _

_ and we will change, _

_ like we always do _

_ but we’ll change to grow and we’ll grow together. _

**_JJA, 20XX._ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i hope you enjoyed! thank you for reading! :) :) :) :) :) :) :)
> 
> also if any of y'all are curious:
> 
> BOOKS (by Jughead Jones-Andrews)
> 
> Straight A’s - about a freshman who’s in top classes and getting really good grades while struggling with her ace identity and crush on her female best friend
> 
> Hoodies - collection of diary entries from the point of view of a soccer player who self-harms and struggles to hide it from his peers and ask for help; he wears hoodies constantly to hide his wrists and only his artist best friend notices (they end up together)
> 
> Spouse - the struggle of a girl trying to grow into herself while feeling like she’s not really a “her”; told over the span of many years as she falls in love, marries a man, and soon finds she also identifies as a man; her/his husband calls her/him his spouse to make her/him feel more comfortable through her/his transition
> 
> SONGS (by Archie Jones-Andrews)
> 
> you and me (that’s my whole world) [title of debut album]
> 
> Team (Noah Cyrus & MAX)  
> Again (Sasha Sloan)  
> Sorry Would Go A Long Way (Tori Kelly)  
> Still Here (Digital Daggers)  
> Ours (Taylor Swift)  
> Still Into You (Paramore)  
> High School Sweethearts (Melanie Martinez)  
> Strawberries & Cigarettes (Troye Sivan)  
> Back To You (WILD)  
> Weekends (Amy Shark)  
> Afterglow (Taylor Swift)  
> Forever (Lewis Capaldi)  
> If The World Was Ending (JP Saxe ft. Julia Michaels)  
> you were good to me (Jeremy Zucker, Chelsea Cutler)


End file.
